Love in a World of the Dead
by DistanceMaster
Summary: Glenn and Daryl's secret relationship began during their time at the CDC. Then Glenn started to get sick and some of the others are starting to get suspicious. It is only when they come upon a very unusual group of survivors do they discover the origin of Glenn's strange illness. DarylxGlenn. mpreg because there is so little of it. If you don't like, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I felt that the world needs a little more Walking Dead mpreg especially when Daryl is involved. The whole world has gone to shit so why not everything else, even biology? Just to clear a few things up: this start at the CDC but covers a whole lot of time (about five episodes) in a slightly altered timeline. 1) Glenn has no interest in Maggie and does not have sex with her on the run to the pharmacy. 2) Since Glenn has no interest in Maggie, he doesn't go into the barn so none of that has happened. 3) He is gay and like Daryl which is a major change. REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

**Glenn and Daryl's secret relationship began during their time at the CDC. Then Glenn started to get sick. The mysterious disease persisted and drove Glenn away from others that didn't want a potentially contagious man in their group. Daryl tries to defend Glenn the best he can and keep those others, especially Shane at bay. It is only when they come upon a very unusual group of survivors that they learn the origin behind Glenn's strange illness. Mpreg DarylxGlenn**

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Chapter 1

The first time that Daryl and Glenn had sex was when they were staying at the CDC. It was a spur of the moment decision for both of them, if Glenn had to describe it. After everyone had finished their feast and gone to bed, Daryl had come stumbling into Glenn's room and leaned against the doorframe to steady himself. Glenn had stood up from his seat on the bed, staring at the larger man, studying him. Although he was more than drunk at the time, Glenn could still remember thinking that Daryl looked good whether he was cleaned up or not.

The moment that Daryl swung the door closed, they were on each other like Walkers responding to a gunshot. They clawed at each other's clothes, tearing them off as quickly as they could. Glenn barely even had time to examine his partner's lower parts before Daryl had him on the bed on his hands and knees. He whined and moaned as the larger man clumsily tried to prepare him, his fingers slick with saliva. Daryl had growled behind him before he began to attack Glenn's opening with his tongue, driving the younger man crazy. By the time he was ready, Glenn felt boneless, his entire body shaking from the force of the tremors that had wracked their way through his thin frame.

Then Daryl entered and everything exploded into a sort of blinding pleasure that made him drop to his forearms and hike his hips up as high as he could get them. They pounded against each other, nearly rocking the steel bed that was nailed to the floor. Daryl struck his prostate with every stroke, finally pushing Glenn over the edge. They collapsed on top of each other, panting heavily and still attached when they fell asleep.

The following morning, they repeated.

When he awoke again, Glenn found Daryl staring at him. He smiled tentatively and sat up, wincing slightly from the pain in his back.

"Morning," he said quietly, picking at the sheets that gathered around his hips.

Daryl grunted in response, flopping down on his back. Glenn glanced down at him, noticing the slightly worried look on the man's face.

"I won't tell anyone," the smaller man said.

"You'd better not," Daryl snapped.

Glenn didn't flinch, already used to Daryl's typical attitude towards him.

"Even if you… want to continue with this," Glenn finished, ducking his head in embarrassment.

Daryl looked up at him, his face expressionless. Sitting up, he wrapped an arm around Glenn's shoulders, rubbing his far collarbone gently with his hand.

"Do you want to?"

Glenn nodded vigorously.

"Alright then. As long as we don't tell anyone."

Glenn agreed whole-heartedly with that. He had known he was gay for years, ever since high school, but he'd never told anyone about it, not even his parents. There were occasional boyfriends here and there, never lasting very long, but he wasn't about to tell anyone his little secret just because the world had essentially come to an end. If racism still persisted, why wouldn't hatred based on sexuality? Rick and Dale seemed like they would be fine with it, Lori and Carol too, but the others he wasn't so sure about.

Then Dr. Jenner tried to blow them all sky high and the two men had to put aside their lust for one another for a while. Everyone was in close quarters, sleeping in the cars or Dale's RV. Walkers were crawling all over the highway and then Sofia went missing. Carl was shot. Everything just got worse and worse until they found Hershel's farm. Daryl and Glenn barely talked beyond the occasional shouted commands or nervous questions. They didn't have a chance alone until Carl finally awoke on the bed in Hershel's house.

That night was their third and it was as mind blowing as the first two. The only differences were that it was in the middle of the woods and Glenn had scratches all over his hands from tree bark by the time they were finished.

Again, they decided to not tell anyone.

The following day Glenn and Maggie went to the Pharmacy down the road. Surprisingly, Glenn managed to make it out of the store without Maggie noticing the box of condoms that hid the pregnancy test for Lori. He's felt elated, proud of himself for managing to help Lori keep her secret even though he found it extremely hard to do so. She trusted him, something that didn't often happen even before the dead started walking.

When Rick and Shane brought Daryl into the house injured, Glenn felt his heart drop into his stomach and his good mood had instantly vanished. After he'd learned that the other man was okay, just really beat up, Glenn breathed a silent sigh of relief. He wasn't ready to lose Daryl, but he avoided the room where Daryl was laid up like the plague, not even going close to it as they ate dinner in the farmhouse.

He knew that he was becoming attached to the rough man, more than he probably should. His chest ached whenever he thought about what had happened to Daryl, how Andrea had almost killed him. He was about ready to drop to his knees and thank whatever deity was out there that she missed.

Despite his attraction and growing love for the other man, Glenn knew to keep his distance a bit. Daryl may have slept with him three times, but that didn't make him gay. Men had done crazier things before under less stressful and otherworldly conditions.

When Glenn was helping Carol wash the dishes, Maggie came into the kitchen and tapped him on the shoulder. Glancing back at her, Glenn smiled, a questioning look in his eyes.

"Daryl is asking for you. Said he had something to talk to you about," she said, taking the wet glass from his hand.

Glenn's smile dropped from his face and he nodded, quickly leaving the room. He trudged towards the bedroom that Daryl had been placed in, hesitating at the door. Gathering his courage, he quietly opened the door and slipped inside.

Daryl was on his side, his back facing Glenn with a bandage wrapped around his side and another around his head. As the door closed, he looked over his shoulder at the smaller man, motioning for him to come closer. Glenn took a deep breath to steady himself and walked around the bed so he and Daryl were facing each other. He sat in the chair that had been pulled up the bedside, his hands twitching nervously in his lap.

"L-Lori said you, uh, wanted to see me?" he asked.

"Yeah, I did," he said slowly. "What do you think of that?"

"Well, uh, you are the, uh, one injured so you can, uh, do or ask for whatever you want, right? No one can really tell you off for anything, uh, as long as its not going to hurt you further I mean you really got hurt trying to help us so it's a just reward, yeah? Besides, Andrea did shoot you so, uh, you deserve some special treatment from the group-"

Daryl fixed him with a stare that instantly silenced him. The blue eyes (1) were focused completely on him, making him twitch and shuffle in his seat. Glenn blushed when he realized he was rambling.

"I wanted a little company. Is that so bad?" Daryl asked sarcastically.

"Well, uh, you usually don't want, uh company," Glenn replied.

Daryl smirked and nodded. "No, I usually don't, but when you're laid up in bed because a horse practically threw you down a gully its nice to have it once in a while. Not much else to do anyway."

Glenn smiled a little at the annoyed look on Daryl's face. "You aren't one to sit still, are you?"

"Never. I fucking hate this bed. I fucking hate this house. I fucking hate these stitches in my side and fucking bandage wrapped around my head. Most of all, I hate every fucking second that I have to spend laying here waiting for my body to heal," Daryl snarled.

"Cool it, Legolas. Getting angry now isn't going to help you," Glenn chuckled.

"No, but I am still fucking angry about it."

Snarling at the bed underneath him, Daryl shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable. Glenn smiled a little and stood up, reaching over Daryl to help him. He placed a hand carefully on Daryl's back, pulling on it to help him shift over closer to the edge of the bed. When Daryl was comfortable, the bigger man shooed him back to his chair, snorting at the content look on Glenn's face.

"Don't get attached. This world has gone to shit. Anything can happen," Daryl growled.

"I'll try, but I'm a sentimental person. We're not all like you," Glenn said, teasing him a little.

"Better learn faster, kid."

"I'm not a kid and you know it."

Daryl smirked and rolled his eyes at Glenn. "You're still a little motherfucking brat when you want to be."

"I would never fuck a woman. You know that too," Glenn murmured lowering his voice so much that Daryl barely heard him.

"Yeah, you would rather be fucked."

Glenn blushed heavily and tried to hide his face when a large hand caressed the top of his head. He glanced up at Daryl who was petting his dark hair and staring at him.

"No need to get depressed, kid. I'll be up and running soon. I can hunt and fuck as much as you want," he said.

"I'm not depressed," Glenn snapped, brushing Daryl's arm away.

"Fine, fine," the bigger man said, giving Glenn a knowing look. "Whatever you say."

They were silent for a while, awkward. Glenn didn't know what to do as he sat beside Daryl's bed. He looked down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs. His mind was racing, but it was hardly full of wild thoughts. It was completely blank, rushing to find anything to say or think of.

Finally, Daryl sighed loudly, bringing Glenn's attention back to the bigger man.

"How did your run to the Pharmacy go?" Daryl asked.

"Fine. I found a few things that could help us, some medicines and things," Glenn replied.

"That's good. Better to be prepared, especially if that old man ever grows a fucking pair of balls and kicks us off his land," Daryl muttered.

"Hershel wouldn't do that," Glenn argued.

"He would and he plans to. I bet that when Carl is finally okay, he'll want us gone for good."

"He seems like a nice man to me."

"He's a creepy old fucker."

Not wanting to argue, Glenn sat back in his chair and threw up his hands. Daryl smirked and settled back down against the bed, satisfied with the result of their discussion.

"I'll be back on my feet soon, kid. No need to worry."

Glenn nodded. He knew as well as any of them that they needed Daryl. If something happened, whether Hershel pushed them off his land or not, they needed their crossbow expert.

* * *

Glenn awoke with a massive headache. He groaned as he sat up, the sleeping bag shifting around him. Raising his hand to his head, he rubbed his forehead and groaned again. The humid air around him was thick and heavy; making his lungs hurt a bit as he breathed.

As he stood, the tent around him spun. He hissed as he stumbled over to the entrance, quickly unzipping it. Gripping a nearby tree, he steadied himself, rubbing his temples. Lori, who was tending to the fire, quietly stepped over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Glenn, are you alright?" she asked quietly.

He nodded, closing his eyes to block out the view that spun and shifted with every movement and moment.

"I-I'm fine! Just a little dizzy is all," he replied.

"I can get you some water," Lori said.

"No, it's okay," Glenn sighed, opening his eyes again. "It's over now."

Lori nodded and walked back to the fire as Glenn straightened up. Stretching his arms above his head, he cracked his back and shoulders, sighing with relief as the muscles loosened. He looked up, taking notice of the lack of clouds and the high placement of the sun. Frowning, he looked around. Rick and Shane were nowhere in sight and in the distance, he could see T-Dog and Dale working under the hood of his RV. Carol was washing some clothes and hanging them up to dry on a clothesline that was strung between two trees. The fire was low and mostly smoldering. Breakfast had been cooked and eaten a while ago.

Feeling eyes on him, the Asian man turned to see Daryl lying on his side in his tent, the entrance unzipped and wide open to allow the breeze to filter inside. He was reading a book, although he hardly seemed to be paying much attention to it, as he was barely finished with the first ten pages.

"You're up late, kid," the redneck said, his blue eyes locking with Glenn's.

"I haven't slept this late in years, not since high school," Glenn admitted. "It has to be close to noon."

"Past it, I would say," Daryl replied. "Probably closer to one."

"Fuck," Glenn hissed. "I didn't mean to do that!"

"No one seemed to notice too much," Daryl said. "We didn't need someone to run into town."

"Thanks for reminding me of my worth, Daryl," Glenn snarled sarcastically.

"It wasn't meant as a criticism, kid, only the truth. I tell it like I see it," Daryl said, turning back to his book.

"I know."

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Don't worry about me, Daryl. Focus on getting better."

"I don't need to. I'll be up by the end of the day."

"I don't doubt it."

Throughout the rest of the day, Glenn kept feeling sicker and sicker. His headache returned and as the day got hotter, he became dizzy more often as he worked alongside T-Dog and Dale. The two men reacted kindly to his sudden symptoms, letting him sit down on the steps of the RV or in the shade whenever he got too dizzy to stand. Lori and Carol brought them all tin cups filled with water every now and then, trying to keep them hydrated. By the end of the day, Glenn felt like shit and as the sun started to vanish behind the trees in the distance, he finally gave in and stumbled back to the tents.

"You really don't look good," Carol said as he approached her and Lori.

"I feel awful, but there's so much that needs to be done," Glenn sighed.

Lori reached out and felt his forehead, recoiling from the heat.

"You weren't bit or anything were you?" she asked.

Glenn shook his head. "I haven't been near a walker since we were out on the highway."

Lori sighed. "It's better that we have you healthy than sick. Go to bed. I can bring you some dinner later."

"I really don't want to-"

"Just do it, kid," Daryl shouted as he stood outside his tent, stretching his arms a bit. "They're right. You look like absolute shit."

Sighing, Glenn raised his hands in defeat and walked towards his tent. A large hand grasped his bicep as he almost stumbled into a tree, steadying him. He glanced up at Daryl, silently thanking the man. Daryl stole a look at the two women, who met his gaze with worried looks. He nodded to them and drove Glenn towards his own tent, pushing the smaller man inside. Forcing the younger man down on his bedroll, Daryl quickly went to grab Glenn's own before laying it out on the floor beside the other man.

"Lay down," Daryl commanded. "You'll sleep in my tent tonight. I'd rather have you near someone stronger if something happens."

"That's thoughtful of you," Glenn replied sarcastically as he followed the other man's command and lay down on the bedroll. He closed his eyes and snuggled against the cooler exterior of the bedroll.

Above him, Daryl stared down at him, eyebrows furrowed in worry. He glanced up as Lori approached with a small bowl filled with water and a rag. Taking them, Daryl sat down beside Glenn and soaked the rag in the water. Wringing out the excess liquid, Daryl carefully set the rag on Glenn's forehead. He could feel the heat rising from the pale skin as he placed the rag, making him frown heavily.

He watched as Glenn drifted off to sleep, snuggled into the blanket of the bedroll. Daryl could honestly admit to himself that he was worried about the smaller man, although he tried hard not to show it. Every half hour or so, he would rewet the rag and place it on Glenn's hot forehead, but the fever persisted.

When Lori brought them food later that evening, Daryl didn't even have the heart to wake the younger man. He looked exhausted. Dark circles followed the curves of his eyes and the skin of his face seemed paler than normal. He was sick and Daryl really didn't know what to do.

Daryl focused on Glenn alone for the rest of the night, his crossbow tight against his side in case something happened. The only time he drew his attention away from the sick man beside him was around ten o'clock when a disturbance outside distracted him.

"Shane, I'm sure he'll be fine! It's probably just the flu or something," Lori said outside the tent.

"The flu? In summer? Lori, there's no one here to give him the flu!" Shane snapped back. "What if he's been bitten?"

"He hasn't! He said he hasn't been near a walker since we saw them on the highway and that was over five days ago!"

"How do you know? Maybe he got bit when he went out yesterday on that run. Or what if he got up in the middle of the night and we didn't know about it?" Shane asked.

"Be quiet you two! There may be walkers nearby," Rick snarled. "Look, if Glenn isn't better by tomorrow, we'll ask Hershel to take a look at him. Is that fair?"

"Fine, but if he starts getting any worse, I get to shoot him in the fucking head," Shane snarled before he stormed off.

Daryl heard the tent flap zip closed followed by a much quieter conversation between Lori and Rick. Ignoring them both, he turned back to Glenn, who was silent at his side. Running his fingers through the dark hair, Daryl thought about the man he'd come to care so deeply about. Glenn was a huge pain in his ass at times and was as ignorant about survival in the wilderness as a newborn deer, but he did have some redeeming qualities. He was somewhat shy, quiet (even if he often asked stupid questions), and as fast as Daryl if you got him going. The kid was a lover of life that was for sure.

Sighing, Daryl rested against the log that he'd drug into his tent to serve as a backrest. He reached out with his free hand for his crossbow, clutching it tightly. He was prepared to defend his younger lover if he needed to, no matter if the threat was a Walker, that god damn Hershel, or fucking Shane Walsh.

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**1. I'm pretty sure that Daryl's eyes are blue, but I'm not sure. I checked in a few episodes and that's the color they seemed to be.**

**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Review anyway as long as you have something constructive to say. More reviews only helps me.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I got a very positive response to this story so here is the second chapter. I just finished watching the second season so hopefully after this chapter, the plot will really start picking up. While this chapter doesn't really get anywhere in the actual plot, it is an important one to build the relationship between our two men. Hopefully everyone enjoys it. REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 2

Daryl glanced around at those that had gathered outside his tent, dividing them up with his eyes as Hershel knelt beside him, examining Glenn. He could see that they were all nervous, but he could see even more clearly why each of them were nervous. Some, such as Lori, Carol, and Dale, were actually worried about Glenn being sick. Then there were the others: Shane, Andrea, and Rick mostly, although T-dog had Daryl wary as well. They were the ones more worried about if Glenn was going to die.

Beside him, Hershel sat up straight, having finished with Glenn. He sighed and shook his head.

"I have no idea what's wrong with him. If he was going to become a Walker, he'd have died and come back by now," Hershel said.

"Is he contagious?" Shane asked.

"Again, I don't know. The symptoms sure look similar to the flu, but one of you would probably be sick as well if it was. The flu passes fairly quickly when people are in as close of quarters as you lot have been the past few weeks," Hershel replied.

"We can't risk it," Shane said to Rick. "He could infect all of us with whatever he has."

"Shane, we don't know that! He may be fine in a few days!" Lori cried.

"I'm going to bet that he won't be and he'll be putting all of the rest of us in danger. It's not just this disease, whatever the hell it is. What if a walker comes? We'd have to carry him. He can't run on his own; just look at him. He'd slow us down and one of us would probably die because of it," Shane snapped in reply.

Daryl glared up at the other man, snarling. "Then you don't have to be the one to carry him."

"Fuck you, Daryl. Just cause you have a soft spot for Glenn doesn't mean you can lead the rest of us to our-"

"Shane, quiet down," Rick said. "Daryl is just trying-"

"I'm not trying to do anything," Daryl spat. "I'm telling him to back the fuck off. We don't even know what's wrong with him."

"Daryl, I don't think we need to get-"

"Shut it, Rick. Your friend over there is planning on shooting a kid 'cause he a little sick. I'd say that's pretty fucked up considering what he did for your son when he got shot!" Daryl snarled in reply.

"Trying to save Carl wasn't going to kill anyone else! Whatever the fuck this illness is could," Shane snapped.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "You just want to shoot something."

"Can you two just shut up?"

Everyone looked down at Glenn who had finally awoken. He rubbed his eyes, blinking fiercely in the bright sunlight. His hair was a mess, sticking up on one side from the sweat that had dripped down the side of his face. The fever still raged, turning his forehead bright red and his eyes were filled with that glazed over look. He'd shed his shirt at some point during the night, trying to cool himself off, but it hadn't done much.

"How are you feeling, boy?" Hershel asked.

"Like fucking shit. Why? How should I feel?" the Asian man asked.

"Better, I was hoping," Hershel sighed. "We don't have any antibiotics to spare, but I'll try making you some tea to see if that helps. It just may."

"Ah, fuck. I'll be better if I just sleep some more. I'll sweat it out," Glenn said.

"Perhaps, but tea will help you fall asleep. I have a stockpile in the house," Hershel replied, standing.

"Shouldn't we figure out what's wrong with him before we put him to sleep?" Shane asked.

"Fuck off, Shane," Glenn said, trying to stir up the fiercest glare he could. "I'll get better and back to making runs before you can even pull out a fucking gun."

Daryl glanced up at Shane, giving him a smirk. Shane backed up a step and stormed away, grumbling under his breath. Rick sighed and quickly followed, Lori not far behind. Smiling at them, Carol nodded.

"I'll get you some more water," she said before she walked back towards the center of camp, where they left the water.

Glenn groaned as he slowly turned onto his side, the wet cloth falling from his forehead. Reaching out, Daryl grabbed it and placed it back, a couple drops of water dripping down his face.

"Thanks," Glenn muttered, pressing down on the towel hard to wring out a couple extra drops.

"No problem, kid. As long as we're both laid up, I might as well do something useful and look after yah," Daryl replied.

Hershel glanced back and forth between Glenn and Daryl, eyebrows furrowed in a frown.

"Well," he said as he stood up, "I'd recommend that you both stay in here for a few more days, especially you Daryl. We don't want you openin' up those stitches."

"Whatever, old man," Daryl sighed. Then he reared up, adding, "But only two days! Then I'm doing whatever the hell I want."

Ignoring the outburst, Hershel turned to Glenn. "If this illness does go away, it'll probably take you at least two days to get your strength back. If not, more serious action will need to be taken."

Glenn nodded in agreement and settled down against the bedroll. Hershel glanced at each of them before he left the tent, leaving the flap open for them. Snarling at the old man, Daryl played with one of his arrows, running his fingers along the edge of the feathers.

"You'd better get well kid. I don't want to know what Hershel's 'serious action' is," Daryl said.

"I will," Glenn replied, closing his eyes.

"He and that family of his will probably run you off like you're some kind of rabid mutt," Daryl continued, "But they ain't goin' to do it by taking you out back and shootin' you in the head."

"Like Old Yeller? I'm not surprised by the comparison, my skin color being so close and all," Glenn said sarcastically.

"Shut it, kid. I ain't talking about your race, but the fact that whatever has got you sick is probably scaring the shit out them," Daryl snapped.

Glenn shifted nervously, pressing his hand to his forehead. Daryl watched as a few beads of water rushed over the red, hot skin, trying to cool the smaller, suffering man. Slowly sitting up, Daryl took the rag from Glenn and set it in the bowl, pressing it in to the soak up the last the water before he placed it on Glenn's forehead yet again.

Daryl looked up as Carol brought over another bowl of water, switching it out for the one Daryl had just finished. She smiled at him, threw a concerned glance at Glenn and stepped out once again, heading back to the fire where some vegetables were roasting.

Turning back to Glenn, Daryl found that he was asleep. His breathing was even and steady, despite the bright red tinge to his cheeks and forehead. The illness hadn't spread to his lungs, whatever it was. At least Daryl could be thankful for that.

Daryl awoke to the sound of quiet moaning. His eyes snapped open and he practically jumped up from where he was lying inside the tent. He looked around wildly, gripping his crossbow tightly. Holding his breath, he waited, listening. The moaning wasn't coming from outside though.

Frowning, he glanced down at Glenn to discover the source of the moaning. Glenn was curled up on his side, gripping at his stomach. His eyes were open and filled with tears, a few of which dripped over his cheeks. Teeth clenched, Glenn squeezed his eyes shut and tried to curl up into a tighter ball, fingers digging into the skin under his shirt.

Kneeling beside the smaller man, Daryl felt his forehead and he drew back when he didn't feel the blazing heat that he had earlier. Glenn was cold and a shiver seemed to run through his body constantly. Grabbing a blanket, he wrapped it around Glenn, hoping it would warm him up.

"Fuck it, kid. You gotta pull through," Daryl muttered quietly as he pulled the smaller man beside him, fitting Glenn against his side.

Glenn groaned and shifted as closer to Daryl as he could get. He snuggled against the warmth, burying his face in the larger man's side.

Suddenly, a violent shudder ran through Glenn's body and he tried to throw himself away from Daryl. His body however was too weak and he collapsed, hissing in pain. Grabbing an empty bowl, Daryl shoved it under Glenn's face. The smaller man nodded his thanks before he opened his mouth. Vomit exploded into the bowl and Glenn's entire body convulsed as his stomach continued to expel everything it could. Daryl hesitated for a moment before reaching out to rub the small of Glenn's back, trying to be comforting.

The vomiting stopped when there was nothing, but bile left in Glenn's stomach. Daryl wrinkled his nose at the smell as he grabbed Glenn and dragged him back to his side. Glenn clutched the blanket, pulling it around him tightly as he lay against Daryl again. Carefully, Daryl lifted Glenn's head and set it on his stomach. The dark eyes opened and glanced up at him, glazed over with pain.

"You'll be okay, ki- Glenn," Daryl said as he rested back against the log again.

He ran his fingers through the smaller man's dark hair.

"We'll figure out what's wrong with yah."

"And if we don't?"

Daryl thought for a moment and smirked.

"Then Shane can go and fuck himself. We won't abandon you," he said.

"What about Hershel?" Glenn asked.

"If that old motherfucker tries to do anything, I'll put an arrow through his fucking head," Daryl snarled. "I've spent too much taking care of yah to let some old man drive you off just 'cause you're a little sick."

"And if I become, well, you know?"

That stopped Daryl for a moment. He wrapped an arm around Glenn's back, pulling him tightly against him. He could feel the tremors that ran through the smaller man's body.

"We'll deal with that when it comes to it. I'll do it myself if it makes you feel better."

Glenn nodded, rubbing his stomach absentmindedly. Most of the pain was gone, replaced by an annoying prickling feeling. His tears had stopped and he blushed deeply when he realized that he'd cried in front of Daryl.

"I'm sorry if I'm bothering you," he said quietly.

"Not much you can do about a sickness other than wait it out," Daryl replied gruffly.

"I just wanted to thank you for standing up for me. It means a lot," Glenn added.

Their eyes met and Daryl blinked in surprise. He snorted in annoyance, but reached over and began running his fingers through Glenn's hair with his free hand.

"Go to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning," he said.

"Now who is being an optimist?" Glenn teased.

"Shut up and go to sleep, kid."

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**Like it? Hate it? Love it? Review anyway because reviews can only help me.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hopeless1665 asked a very good question: is it common for men to be able to have children or just since the break out and it's a new thing? The answer: you'll see eventually. We need to build up the drama here! Here's a teaser for you though: mpreg and the outbreak are connected.**

**A/N: This chapter follows the show pretty closely in terms of the plot. There are a few changes and it is a bit slower pace again, but its essential for character development. I promise that the next chapter will start to get into the really good stuff so KEEP READING! REMINDER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT (WITH MY OTHER STORIES. THEY NEED LOVE TOO!)**

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Chapter 3

There were only two things on Daryl's mind and they were quite troubling indeed. If Daryl were a different kind of man, the things that dominated his thoughts would probably terrify him. Thankfully though, Daryl was a Dixon, a man of strength and fortitude. If he was scared, he didn't dare show it.

There were walkers in the barn.

Glenn wasn't getting much better.

Daryl was more terrified by Glenn's health than the walkers. Walkers he knew how to handle: knife or arrow straight through the brain. Glenn's illness, however, was something completely foreign to him.

Daryl and his brother had rarely gotten sick. They were wild boys. Sure they got hurt often, but all of the hunting and outdoor activity they did prevented most diseases. Their internal systems were just too strong for them. Glenn, however, was a city boy, a pizza delivery boy who had been thrown into a world he was pretty much unprepared for.

Four days had now passed since Glenn first got sick and Daryl was becoming increasingly more worried. While the younger man had stopped throwing up, his stomach still bothered him. The pain was centered in his lower stomach and ached constantly. Glenn was still bedridden as the fever continued to rage. The few times that he had attempted to stand, he had quickly collapsed in someone's arms and was forced back to bed.

They were sitting around the campfire (all except Glenn, of course), eating breakfast when Dale told them about the walkers in the barn. Everyone froze in shock, not quite able to believe what he was telling them. Hershel had been kind to them for most of their time there. He had taken the bullet out of Carl's side. He had offered them a place to stay until the young boy was healed. He had even taken a look at Glenn when he'd first got sick. Betrayal coursed through them all. The old veterinarian was keeping walkers, dangerous creatures, in the barn not three hundred yards from where they were camped.

Shane jumped into action first.

"You're sure it's walkers?" he asked, practically circling around Dale like a wolf stalking around its prey.

"I heard the moans myself and I even peaked through a crack in the door. They were shuffling about in there, alright," the older man replied.

"What were you even doing over there in the first place?" Lori asked, setting her plate of half-finished food aside.

"You know how we pulled that Walker out of the well near the house? I was worried that the water could still be contaminated and wanted to conserve what we already have stored. There's another well over on the far side of the barn so I went over there to fill up a bucket," Dale explained. "That's when I heard the moans."

Rick sighed and rubbed his forehead with his palm. "What is Hershel thinking, keeping those walkers in there?"

"They're his family and friends, people he's known his whole life. He doesn't see them as monsters," Dale said.

"You asked him about it?" Rick asked.

Dale nodded. "Yesterday."

Daryl clutched his crossbow tightly, snarling silently under his breath. He'd never trusted that old man. He barely trusted Rick and he sure as hell didn't trust Shane. Glenn, Carol, and maybe Andrea were the only ones with any real worth, especially now that Andrea had learned to shoot.

Daryl's eyes flicked to the lone blond. She had a menacing glare in her eyes that was focused on Dale and Rick. Daryl's eyes narrowed as he silently analyzed what was going on.

"We need to go in there and destroy them," Andrea snarled.

"We can't do that!" Rick snapped. "This is Hershel's property. That means we follow his rules."

"Who cares about who the land belongs to? The world is different now, Rick," Shane asked.

"It isn't safe when there are walkers that close. They could break out at any time and kill us in our fucking sleep," Andrea added.

Daryl snarled quietly at her. As if he would let that happen.

"We need to respect what Hershel wants," Rick argued. "If he wants to keep those Walkers locked up in the barn, then so be it. We can take turns patrolling at night."

Shane whined in exasperation. "God damn it, Rick. Put aside your morals for one second. Did you hear me earlier? The world has changed. Who the fuck cares about land ownership?"

"Just because the dead started walking doesn't mean that everything has to go to shit with it. Property is still property. I'm not going to take Daryl's crossbow from him without his permission," Rick replied.

Andrea rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "And yet you have no problem looting stores?"

"That's because we need whatever we can find to survive!" Rick said.

"And the elimination of walkers that are close buy isn't going to help us survive?" Andrea asked. She pointed towards the barn. "Those things are a danger to us all, Rick. They need to be taken care of."

Rick was starting to get frustrated, gritting his teeth as he snapped back at her. "We can't afford to lose Hershel's good graces. We'll have to leave this place if we do."

"Who gives a fuck? It's not like he can call the cops on us to kick us off his land," Shane laughed.

"No, but he can shoot at us," Rick replied, glaring at his best friend and former partner.

Daryl remained silent throughout the argument, crossbow strapped to his back. He was torn. While he didn't like Hershel and he most definitely was not okay with those fucking walkers being kept in the barn, he certainly didn't want to piss off the old man. Glenn was still sick and Hershel was the closest thing to a vet probably left alive now that Jenner had set himself on fire. If Glenn got any worse, whom else would they go to for help?

"Besides, it's safer here for us than out on the road. At least here we have a vantage point and a house to go to if we need it. We can't afford to lose that," Rick continued.

"It's not safe when Hershel is keeping things that want to tear us apart and eat our faces off in his fucking barn!" Shane howled.

"It's better having them locked up in the barn than running around wild isn't it?" Rick spat.

"No, it's better that they're dead," Andrea snarled.

"There's nothing we can do about it! We're going to leave it alone. We can't risk moving now!" Rick said with a tone of finality in his voice.

"Why the fuck not?" Shane asked. "I want to be as safe as possible too Rick, but you've heard Hershel. He wants us gone as soon as possible anyway. Why don't we just kill the walkers and leave?"

"Because Carl's here, Glenn is sick, and I'm fucking pregnant!" Lori screamed, jumping up out of her seat.

Everyone turned to stare at her. Even Daryl, who was not usually surprised by anything, was shocked. She glared at them each in turn before storming off, Rick following close behind like a kicked puppy. Shane's mouth hung open and he froze for a moment. Snapping himself out of his thoughts, he quickly jogged after them, shouting for the husband and wife to slow down.

Daryl looked back at the others who were left around the campfire. Dale sighed and shook his head, glancing over Carol. She returned his exasperated, but concerned gaze. Andrea looked annoyed as she stormed off to the RV to start her watch for walkers. Carl seemed unsure what to do until Carol led him away, whispering comforting words to him. While Dale returned to his RV to try and talk to Andrea, Daryl snorted and stepped back into his tent.

Glenn was buried under several blankets and his head rested on top of a small pillow that Maggie had given him in a moment of sympathy. His eyes opened as Daryl entered the tent and he smiled up at the older man, his face still flush from fever.

"Are there really walkers in the barn?" Glenn asked quietly.

Daryl nodded as he bent down to pick up his crossbow. He threw it over his shoulder, silently counting the arrows to make sure he had what he needed. Glenn watched him as he prepared for a short hunting trip, brown eyes following Daryl's every move.

"I feel like I should be doing something," the Asian man groaned. "I feel horrible just sitting here."

"You're supposed to focus on getting better, kid," Daryl said.

"Why do you call me that?"

"What? Kid? Would you rather be called chink or short round like I used to call you?"

Glenn blushed and shook his head, hiding his face in the pillow. Daryl snickered at the younger man's shy behavior as he stood up.

"Stay in bed," he commanded, stepping out of the tent.

"Fine," Glenn murmured. "I'm only doing causing you asked."

"I didn't ask, kid," Daryl replied.

"No, but a command is probably as close to a request is as close as you're going to get to one," Glenn muttered.

Daryl smirked. "Maybe, kid. We'll just have to see."

Daryl was just returning from his latest hunting trip when he heard the yelling and arguing. Frowning to himself, he broke into a light jog, loping over fallen trees and piles of leaves. The squirrels that he had killed bounced against his back as he ran, keeping time with his strides.

As he cleared the trees, he saw a large group was assembled in front of the barn. He could pick out Andrea's blond hair, Hershel and Dave's white, and Shane's clean shaved head. Rick and the others were with them, Rick struggling with a walker held on the end of a pole. A shiver ran through Daryl as he raced towards them. Shane was screaming at Hershel who holler back in reply, though Daryl couldn't make out what they were saying.

Finally, in a scream of rage, Shane picked up the bolt cutters and destroyed the lock on the barn door. As he backed away, the doors slowly opened and the walkers started to appear, moaning loudly as they limped towards the living. T-Dog, Shane, and Andrea opened fire, killing each one at a time. Rick, who was still struggling with the male walker on the end of the pole, shouted at them for help. Everyone else's attention was focused on the barn door and the walkers that stumbled through it.

Finally Daryl made it to them. Stepping up behind Rick, he shot the last struggling walker through the head with his crossbow, watching as it fell to the ground. Rick threw him a grateful glance before turning back to look at the barn door.

Slowly, the last walker came into the light and they all gasped. Sofia –or the walker that was once Sofia- snarled at them, her white eyes filled with the hungry desire of the walking dead. One arm was curled in slightly towards her body, the fingers curved into claw-like shapes. Her hair was dirty and her shirt torn at one shoulder. Her knees were covered in mud, showing that she'd fallen at some point, probably as she fled from the walker than eventually bit and turned her.

Off to one side, T-Dog and Andrea struggled to keep Carol from going towards the walker that had been her daughter. Rick squared his shoulders and approached the last walker as she walked towards him. Taking his gun from the holster at his side, Rick aimed it at her head, waiting until she was no more than five feet away from the barrel of the gun.

He fired and Sofia dropped to the ground, dead forever.

Carol was howling and sobbing as T-Dog drug her towards camp, Lori quickly following. Hershel was on the ground, eyes wide with shock. Beth and Maggie were crying. Andrea and the others seemed frozen in place, staring down at the body of the little girl. Carl stepped up beside his father, unsure of what else to do. Rick patted his head.

"Go find your mother, Carl. We'll dig her a good grave, one that's nice and square, but not too deep," Rick said.

Carl nodded. "Good. Sofia didn't like the dark too much."

Beth let out a screech as she ran over to one of the fallen walkers. Pushing another dead body off of the female walker, the blond sobbed quietly for her mother.

Suddenly, the walker that had been Hershel's wife and Beth and Maggie's mother attacked, clawing at the blond girl. Beth shrieked as she struggled to get away from the walker, trying to kick at it as it grabbed for her long hair. Andrea, Maggie and Shane were on them in a moment; Maggie pulling her sister away while Andrea and Shane quickly put the walker down for good.

As those that remained started to gather up the bodies, Daryl sensed eyes upon him and he glanced in the direction the camp. T-Dog, Lori, and Carol had just stumbled into the camp, passing Glenn without saying a word. The Korean was wrapped in a blanket and Daryl guessed that the fever still hadn't broken. Although Daryl couldn't actually make out the brown eyes of the younger man, he knew that Glenn was watching him.

Nodding to Glenn, Daryl set about to helping clear the bodies. They spent most of the rest of the afternoon burning the bodies of those they didn't know and burying those they did. Hershel's wife and stepson got graves of the own alongside Sofia's. By the time Daryl was back in the cluster of trees that was their camp, he was exhausted.

Dale had taken the squirrels from him a short time after they'd started clearing away the walkers. The little rodents were waiting beside the fire pit when he arrived. Sighing, he hunkered down and began to dress and cut apart their meal for the night. Normally, Daryl would have dressed the meat out in the field, but the catch had been active that morning. It was better for them to have more meat than not enough so he'd chosen to kill as many squirrels as he could as soon as he could.

He was gutting his third kill when Glenn came over and sat down next to him. The Korean had the blanket wrapped tightly around him and his face was red from the fever.

"You should be resting in the tent, kid, not out here walking around," Daryl said sternly.

"I know, but so much has happened. Carol is broken and Carl is pretty shook up. I can feel the anger just rolling off of Shane and Rick doesn't seem to know what to do anymore. Hershel's not going to let us stay here after what we killed those walkers," Glenn murmured.

Daryl grunted, but nodded in agreement. "Shit is about to get crazier than ever."

They fell into silence as Daryl continued to strip the meat from the bones of the squirrels. Glenn watched with a keen interest, dark eyes following Daryl's hands as he cut, sliced, and cleaned the meat. When he was finished, Daryl set the meat on a tin plate for Lori before he started on lighting the fire. Glenn just continued to watch him.

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the day. Only when they were settled back in Daryl's tent did Glenn finally open his mouth to speak.

"You know how I said that my parents lived in Michigan?" Glenn murmured in the dark.

"Yeah. What about it?" Daryl asked.

"I think about them sometimes and to be honest, I know that they're dead, whether they're walking or not," Glenn said, pulling the blanket tightly around him.

Daryl glanced over at the smaller man, his face expressionless.

"My parents weren't the most active of people. They weren't bad people. They were just… passive. Whenever anything happened to them, they just took it as it came and never tried to fix the problems. Their house was practically falling apart when I moved to Atlanta," Glenn whispered.

The Korean laughed to himself lightly, bitterly. "To be honest, my parents and I were never that close. I know what you're probably thinking and it has nothing to do with those Tiger Parent ideals. We just didn't have much in common. We could speak Korean and we were from Korean originally, but that is about it. They liked classical music and I listened to classic rock. They preferred coming home after work and not leaving until the next morning when they would go to work again. I would stay out with friends well into the evening and I was never home on the weekends."

He sighed quietly. "We were just different people. I did try to make them proud, of course, like any kid does. I did well in school, kept my grades up. I helped around the house. I did love them; I do love them, but I knew they probably wouldn't accept or like certain parts of me if I ever told them."

Daryl cocked one eyebrow, interested. Glenn shifted where he lay as he closed his eyes.

"I never told them I was gay. To be honest, you're the first one I've ever admitted it aloud to before. My past boyfriends: they just fell into place without us needing to define who we were."

Burying his nose in the pillow, Glenn sighed quietly.

"While I miss the comforts of our old life, not having to fear walkers or being eaten every second of every day, there are certain things in this new world that I can't say I hate. I have a purpose now where I just languished in the old world," Glenn admitted.

The Korean shook his head against the pillow, eyes still closed.

"I must really be crazy, huh Daryl?" he murmured to himself as he started to drift off to sleep.

When Glenn's breathing evened out and he was truly asleep, Daryl pulled the smaller man up next to him, setting Glenn's head in his lap. As the night moved further into the darkness, he laid awake, patting Glenn's silken hair absentmindedly.

In truth, he had to agree with Glenn.

In this world of the dead, Daryl, just like Glenn, had found his true calling in life: survival.

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**Like it? Hate it? Love it? Review no matter what your opinion is because reviews can only help me.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I'm glad to see such a strong response to a DarylxGlenn mpreg. I got a lot more reviews that I was expecting. 25 reviews in 3 chapters isn't bad at all. Oh, and the dramas about to get all nice and complicated. Enjoy. REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 4

Daryl awoke early the next morning to find Glenn curled up on top of him. The shorter man's head was tucked under his chin, his quiet breath hot against Daryl's shoulder. One hand clutched the front of Daryl's dirty shirt and the other was thrust out to one side, the hand hanging limply so that the fingers almost touched the ground.

Shifting, Daryl carefully picked up the smaller man and slowly settled him on top of the bedroll. Glenn groaned and opened his eyes, yawning loudly. He glanced up at Daryl as the taller man let go of him, blushing slightly.

"Sorry about that," Glenn murmured.

"No problem, kid. How do you feel?"

Glenn shrugged. "I think the fever is gone, but my stomach still hurts."

Daryl nodded noiselessly as he crouched, stretching out his legs. Glenn watched him as he slowly sat up, shivering somewhat in the cool morning air. Grabbing his crossbow, Daryl unzipped the tent and stepped outside, eyes searching for any threats. Glenn stood just behind him, glancing in the other direction. They nodded to each other that it was safe before they headed over towards the fire pit.

The sun was just starting to peak over the treetops and the majority of their camp was still asleep. Andrea, who never seemed to sleep, was perched on top of the RV, shotgun in her lap. She waved to them in greeting, but didn't say anything. Carol was sitting beside the fire pit, sorting through some leaves she had collected for that morning's fire. Giving them a small smile as they approached, she fiddled with the leaves in her lap.

"G-Good morning," she said nervously.

"Morning, Carol," Glenn groaned, holding his stomach gently as he sat down.

Daryl shot him a concerned look, but Glenn waved it off, taking a deep breath to steady himself. The ache was still there, ever a constant reminder, but the nausea that had arisen settled again when he was sitting down once more.

"How are you feeling, Glenn?" Carol asked as she tossed a few leaves under the grill.

"Better than I have for the last few days, that's for sure," Glenn replied, grabbing a few sticks from the pile beside the fire pit.

Daryl quickly took the wood from him, making Glenn roll his eyes. Carol giggled lightly and shook her head.

"You probably shouldn't be moving around too much," she said. "Just cause you feel better doesn't mean that the illness has passed yet."

"Yeah, yeah. I hate sitting around when there are other things I could be doing. Besides, I feel trapped if I sit in one place for too long, like I'm walker bait," Glenn sighed.

Neither Carol nor Daryl replied to that. They both knew the feeling. In this new world where the dead actively hunted ate the living and death wasn't a permanent state anymore, paranoia was practically a requirement for survival.

Together, the three of them finished setting up the fire and began cooking breakfast. As the sun continued to rise, the others awoke and stumbled out of their tents, the smell of grilled meat from Daryl's catch the day before drawing them out into the open. When each one saw Glenn sitting at the fireside, they asked him the same questions about how he was feeling and he replied the same nearly every time. The only ones who didn't ask were Shane and Andrea.

Daryl had never liked Shane. The man was too twitchy for his taste, especially since Otis had been eaten. Shane was a danger to them all, even if most of the other didn't see it. Dale had approached him not two days before, whispering that he had questions about how Otis had died. Daryl had to admit that he agreed with the older man. Shane did seem like the sort of man who would kill another man or at leave wound him enough so that the walkers would attack him instead of Shane. He had doubt that Shane would do the same to any of the others, bar Carl and Lori of course and Daryl believed with his entire heart that Glenn had jumped to the top of Shane potential hit list since his sickness, potentially tying with Rick.

Then there was Andrea. She'd become like a lovesick puppy since Shane had taught her how to shoot. She did everything he told her to and seemed to follow at his heels like a panting bitch. At one time, Daryl had been able to stand her, back when Amy was alive. Now she was just that… a bitch.

As they ate their breakfast in relative silence, Daryl stole a few glances over at Rick. The former deputy sheriff seemed anxious and deep in thought. Daryl's eyes narrowed before he looked back down at his food. He had a feeling that he knew what Rick was thinking about.

Later that morning, Rick did exactly what Daryl though he would do: he confronted Hershel. The older man had been preparing to sneak into town when Rick found him, asking the veterinarian about their options. The talk had quickly descended into an argument and Hershel had asked them to leave immediately.

"Be gone, you demons! Murderers! I let you stay because that boy was injured and the other was sick, but now, you need to leave! I refuse to let murderers stay on my land!" Hershel hollered, grabbing a shotgun that had been leaning up against the table behind him.

Maggie and Jimmy quickly agreed with him, standing behind the white-haired man with their arms crossed and angry glares in their eyes. Rick had quickly backed off and raced to their group to inform them of the situation.

Their camp was quickly torn down as everyone scrambled to get their belongings back in the vehicles. The firewood that Daryl and T-dog had chopped up was stacked in the back of Rick's and Shane's SUVs along with a lot of camping equipment. Dale's RV was stocked with some of the left over meat from Daryl's hunting trips and bottles and containers full with water from the well near the barn.

As soon as they were prepared to leave, Glenn had been ushered into Dale's RV, forcing to take the seat at the small table where Andrea usually sat. The blond women took Glenn's seat next to Dale, the map spread across her lap. The others clambered into the respective vehicles, Daryl in the lead with his bike.

They headed back to the highway, to the dreaded spot where they had lost Sofia. Carol cried quietly as they passed through the graveyard of abandoned cars and trucks, Lori comforting her in the backseat of Rick's SUV.

None of them knew what to do now. They had found two safe havens, once at the CDC and again at the farm. Both times they were driven away eventually by the people they found there. Jenner had tried to kill them all before he reluctantly had let them leave and Hershel had forced them to leave. Where were they to go now?

The few days were exhausting for them all. They drove almost constantly, only stopping to switch drivers or to let Daryl catch a few hours in Dale's RV. These pit stops were a time of high tension. Everyone was on the look out for walkers, Andrea and Shane taking up their favorite spots on the top of the RV.

Finally, they found a good spot for a campsite. Dale and Andrea had found an old motel marked on their map just a mile or so off the highway. It a rundown building, but it would serve for the night. They divided up the rooms between them. Rick, Lori, Carl, and Carol took the first with T-Dog, Shane, Glenn, and Daryl in the next. Andrea and Dale chose the third. Each room had only two queen-sized beds, but it was better than sleeping in the tents.

They had all said good night and were preparing to go to bed when Shane finally exploded. He sat in a broken chair by the covered window, arms crossed over his chest and guns on either side of him. His shotgun was resting against the chair and his pistol sat on the table. His dark eyes were fixed on Glenn as the younger man sat down on the edge of the bed with a groan.

"Not any better yet?" Shane asked, sneering.

"I'm much better," Glenn replied, flinching somewhat under Shane's scrutiny.

"We know that, man," T-Dog said as he glanced back and forth between the two men. "Its hard getting better when you've been under the stress we have lately."

"I'm starting to suspect that you're never going to get any better," Shane snarled.

Glenn met the older man's glare with a steady gaze. He snorted and shook his head as he pulled off his shoes and socks.

"You clearly don't have a lot of faith in me, Shane, when you really should. Who was it that made all of those runs into Atlanta so that we would have supplies?" Glenn asked, a faint growl obvious in his voice.

"Yeah and look what happened during that last one," Shane chuckled cruelly.

Gritting his teeth, Glenn yanked back the covers on the bed. Daryl, who had just come out of the bathroom, glanced back and forth between the two men, watching Shane warily. They all knew the guilt that Glenn had felt after that run when they didn't return with Merle. The younger man had tried apologizing to Daryl for nearly two weeks after they found the blood and the severed hand. He didn't stop until the redneck got annoyed and finally told him that he accepted the apology, as reluctant as he had been at the time.

"That wasn't my fault and you know it," Glenn replied.

"You're the one who brought Rick back and Rick was the one who handcuffed Merle to the roof of a building," Shane spat. "I'd say that was your fault on some level."

"Just shut the fuck up, Shane. No offense Daryl, but I probably would have shot that asshole in the face if Rick hadn't handcuffed him there," T-Dog spat.

Daryl glowered silently, but didn't reply.

"Besides," Shane said slowly as he stood. He walked towards Glenn, a crazed smirk on his face, "What good is our Atlanta expert when we're more than 150 miles from the city?"

Glenn bristled and glared up at Shane who towered over him.

Daryl watched them closely, scrutinizing every move. They were like two wild dogs that had met in a back alley and both wanted the same dead rat. Shane was the burly Rottweiler, trained from birth by some human to defend what he wanted until he was nastily turned out from his home and onto the streets where his vicious behavior ruled. Glenn was like a snippy terrier that had a loving home, but was allowed to wander around by its owner. He knew where everything was to be found, but had never had a reason to use the knowledge until the world had come to an end. They snarled and yipped at each other as they sized the other dog up, trying to find their weak points.

Shane suddenly lunged, grabbing Glenn's neck. The smaller man yelled and kicked as he was dragged to the other side and off the bed. Daryl and T-Dog sprung into action, clutching at Shane as they tried to get him off of the Korean. Nails scratched through skin, leaving red welts and white lines in their wake. Glenn kicked up at Shane's face, hitting the man square in the jaw. His head snapped back and he staggered away, letting go of Glenn.

Scrambling away, Glenn hid on the other side of the bed, rubbing his neck carefully. Daryl had Shane up against the far wall, struggling to keep the other man down. Shane was screaming and shouting at all three of them, Glenn, Daryl, and T-Dog, as he writhed and fought.

There was a knock at the door and T-Dog, after peeking through the peephole, opened it to reveal Rick. The former deputy sheriff was in a t-shirt and jeans, a gun held in one hand. He was scowling, glaring at them.

"What the hell are you four doing in here?" he asked.

"Fuck off, Rick. It's none of your business," Shane snarled as he pushed Daryl away from him.

"Shane, this is my business. Anything that goes on in this group is my business, okay?" Rick replied.

"Who the hell made you leader of the pack?" Shane asked, advancing on his friend.

"I'm not, but the safety of everyone involved is my main concern and if you're over here, hollering and possibly attracting walkers to the area, then I need to put a stop to him."

Shane hissed angrily and attacked his friend, pushing him out through the open door and onto the gravel of the parking lot in front of the motel. The two men were on the ground, throwing punches and shouting. Shane was on top, then Rick was, then Shane again. Daryl and T-Dog rushed out to help as Glenn finally stood up and stepped outside, following them to help. Carl, Lori, Dale, Andrea and Carol had come out of their rooms to stand at the edge of the gravel watching, Carl clutching his mother's hands. Andrea had a shotgun in hand.

"You fucking asshole!" Shane screamed. "Why did you have to fucking come back to life? Why-"

He was cut off by the loud sound of quick shuffling and moans. Everyone looked up into the darkness on the other side of the parking lot and, in the faint light that spilled from the open doors of their motel rooms and the moon above, they could see walkers coming straight for them.

Shane cursed and leapt up, reaching for the holster that usually hung at his side. When it wasn't there, he panicked.

"Everyone, get to the cars! The walkers have seen the light," he shouted, dashing off in the direction of the cars.

Rick scrambled to his feet and, grabbing Lori's hand, dragged his wife and son after him. Carol, T-Dog, and Daryl weren't far behind. The walkers were right behind them, moaning and snarling like rabid animals in their pursuit of the living humans. When he reached the vehicles, Daryl leapt through the open door of the RV, he turned around as the vehicle roared to life and sped off, Dale at the wheel. Daryl took a deep breath and braced himself for the bumpy ride as the RV raced out towards the highway. Glancing out the back window, he noticed Shane's and Rick's SUVs not far behind.

"We left our weapons behind," T-Dog lamented from the front seat beside Dale when they had reached the highway.

"Fuck it. We'll have to sneak back in," Andrea snarled.

"You know how those walkers are. When they see light or anything like that, they don't like to leave that spot for a few days," Daryl replied, pissed that he'd left his crossbow behind.

"We've got a stash in the back," Dale said. "I think we'll be fine until we can go back and get the rest."

"At least we're all okay," T-Dog sighed.

Daryl froze, eyes darting around. He quickly rushed to the back window of the RV, staring into Rick's and Shane's SUVs. There were four people in Rick's SUV, one in Shane.

"Fuck! Mother fucking shitting Christ!" Daryl shouted as he pushed himself away from the window and raced towards the front of RV.

"What's wrong?" Andrea cried.

"The kid's not here!"

"No, I saw Carl-"

It dawned on Dale and he slammed on the brakes. Andrea screamed as she was thrown onto the floor, glaring up at the older man.

"What the-"

"He doesn't mean Carl."

Dale turned around in his seat, half of his face catching in the faint moonlight as he stared at Daryl. The redneck nodded.

"Glenn. Glenn's not here."

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	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Still going strong with this story and the drama is starting to heat up. Everyone that freaked out over the cliffhanger... well... there may just be another one in this chapter too. It's important though! This is a drama... we need DRAMA in it! Anyway, remember what I always say: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT! Reviews are the greatest gift anyone can ever give me.**

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Chapter 5

"We need to go back!" Daryl hissed.

"With all of those walkers back there?" Andrea cried. "Are you crazy? Glenn is an adult. He's not some little kid like Sofia. I'm sure he can take care of himself."

"He's still sick, Andrea. He can barely walk around without throwing up," Dale said.

"He'll have walkers on his fucking tail. I'm sure that's incentive enough to start running," Andrea snarled.

"Fuck it! I'll go then!" Daryl shouted.

"No Daryl. You're not going out to look for him!" T-Dog replied.

"Why the fuck not?" the redneck asked.

T-Dog motioned to Daryl's back, where the crossbow usually sat. Muttering in anger under his breath, Daryl rushed towards the small room at the back of the RV. Reaching under the bed, he pulled out a handgun and Glenn's favorite baseball bat. He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans and rested the bat on his shoulder before leaping back to the front of the RV.

"Don't fucking do this, Daryl! We can go back tomorrow, during the day!" T-Dog said.

"We are not having another Sofia situation!" Daryl snarled at the other man. "I don't want to open up someone's barn and have the kid come stumbling at us as a walker."

Throwing open the door, the redneck jumped out, skipping the steps entirely. Rick and Shane had pulled up alongside the RV, their driver's side windows rolled down.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rick asked. "There could be walkers around here. We need to leave!"

"We're not leaving the kid behind," Daryl replied as he dashed back towards the motel.

"Daryl!"

The redneck jumped over the railing that lined the right side of the highway, rushing down the hill into the darkness. He held the bat in one hand, the gun in the other. Dashing around trees and over roots, he raced forward, legs and arms pumping wildly. His lungs began to burn by the time he reached the edge of the forest.

Hiding behind a tree, he glanced out towards the parking lot of the motel. His eyes widened when he saw that the parking lot was empty. There was no soft shuffling of feet dragging on gravel. There were no bodies of the one dead lurching around in the light from the open motel room door. The air was devoid of the moans and groans of walkers.

Slowly, Daryl stepped out of the trees, wary. His eyes flicked around the perimeter of the parking lot, and the road that went off towards the highway. The blue irises moved to search the shadows that lined the motel and the woods beyond. Still, nothing moved.

Suddenly, he heard panting and the sound of many feet stomping behind him. Twigs snapping and harsh breathing made the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he whipped around, tucking the gun into his jeans again to hold the bat in both hands. He clutched it tightly, bringing it up and over his right shoulder as he prepared for whatever was coming towards him.

"Daryl!"

The redneck breathed a sigh of relief as he recognized Rick's voice. Dropping the bat into his left hand, he beckoned the former deputy sheriff, Shane, and Andrea out from the woods. They all looked around wildly, shocked by the lack of walkers.

"What the fuck?" Shane murmured.

"I think they saw Glenn when he took off, wherever he went. They must have all followed him," Daryl said as he turned around and started to stalk towards the motel.

Double-checking that there was nothing hiding in the shadows of the building, Daryl silently stepped up onto the wooden porch that ran the length of the motel. Holding the bat tightly, he crept along the building, ducking under any uncovered windows. When he came to the first open door, he paused and held out his hand, signaling to the others. They all stayed quiet, listening. Again, it was silent. Peaking around the edge of the doorframe, Daryl glanced around the motel room. The bed covers had been pulled back and were rumpled. A shirt, probably Carl's, sat on the chair in the far corner. Rick's guns rested on the table beside the door.

Nodding to Rick, Daryl kept watch as the other man snuck silently into the room, retrieving his pistol and rifle. Andrea slunk around Daryl, heading to the second room. After a quick check, she slipped inside to get the weapons they'd left there. There was a quiet smash and the sound of a body hitting the floor

Rick had just exited the room his family had been staying in when Andrea stuck her head out and motioned for them to follow her.

This room had been destroyed. The beds had been moved, skewed at an odd angle. The covers were ripped and torn, having been thrown from the beds and onto the floor. The chair and table at which Shane had been sitting not fifteen minutes earlier had been overturned and the legs of the chair had been snapped off before being trampled into little splinters of wood. Only one of Shane's guns, the shotgun, remained. Daryl's crossbow was also gone. The window at the back of the motel room was broken, having been destroyed by something large flying through it. A walker whose head Andrea had bashed in with the butt of her shotgun lay next to it, its black tongue dripping a few drops of saliva-mixed blood. Daryl stepped up to it, inspecting the jagged edges of the glass. A few of the sharp edges were tipped in the red liquid of life.

"Shit," Daryl muttered to himself.

"Glenn must have run back through here to get the weapons," Rick said quietly.

"Yeah. Managed to grab my shotgun and Daryl's crossbow before the walkers got here," Shane added. "He jumped through the back window and the herd followed him, I suppose."

"I bet this guy was at the back of the group. He was licking the glass," Andrea said, tapping the walker's body with her foot. "If that blood belongs to Glenn, then most of them would have gone after him first. The freshest source of blood is going to attract their attention, but if one is far back enough, I guess its possible that it could lose interest when there's something else that none of the others have gone after."

"I didn't think a walker could think like that," Shane snarled.

"Probably can't, but if an animal can get food an easier way, isn't it going to go the easy route first? The rest were probably too caught up in chasing Glenn to notice," Andrea replied.

"Probably can't do it consciously, but if an animal can get food an easier way, isn't it going to go the easy route first? The rest were probably too caught up in chasing Glenn to notice," Andrea replied.

Daryl's mouth was set in a firm line as he inched towards the window, holding out the bat. He stuck it out through the broken window, waiting for something to reach out and grab it. When nothing happened, he continued forward, alert for any sounds of moaning or movement.

He stepped out into the grass and it crumpled softly under his feet. His eyes scanned the darkness, searching. Even the expanse of grass that separated the motel from the trees of the forest beyond was empty. The group of humans slowly crossed the open land, Daryl staring down at the ground. He'd found the trail easily. With a stampede of that size, it wasn't surprising.

Kneeling down, he ran his finger along the inside of a clear shoeprint, a sneaker. It was set deeper into the ground than any of the other tracks around it and up ahead, Daryl could just see another clearly marked in the dirt. The strides were long, but quick, the heavy weight of the body pushing the outline of the bottom of the shoes into the dirt with easy pounding step.

Raising his eyes, he glanced into the trees ahead. He pointed straight ahead.

"The kid went that way," he said as he stood up and headed into the forest.

The four of them quickly followed the trail, Andrea, Rick, and Shane keeping a look out as Daryl's eyes followed the footprints in the ground. The forest around them was quiet except for the occasional twitter of a small animal up in the trees. Daryl would always dismiss it, recognizing the sounds of raccoons.

About a three miles into the forest, they came upon what looked like a battlefield. It was a small clearing at the top of a hill and the bodies of at least thirty to forty walkers lay strewn upon the ground, dead for the final time. They lay haphazardly on top of each other like a row of ragdolls that had fallen from a toy store shelf. A few had made it further before they'd been downed by whatever had crushed their skulls in. The majority, however, had been shot through the head with bullets.

Daryl knelt down next to one, examining the bullet hole that went through its eye socket and into the brain. He snorted at the smell, but kept looking. His frown grew deep as he glanced around the clearing.

"These walkers died recently, within the last thirty minutes. The flies haven't even found them yet," he said quietly.

"But we would have heard the gunshots wouldn't we?" Andrea asked. "We've been walking for longer than that."

"Sound doesn't carry as well in a forest as it does in the open," Daryl said, "but I doubt that we wouldn't have heard the amount of gunshots it would take to do this: 30 or more shots? That's a lot."

Daryl took a deep breath as he stood, trying to steady himself. Shane's shotgun didn't hold nearly enough rounds to do this much damage and only three or so had their heads caved in. Glenn hadn't done this himself. Someone else was out here, at least.

Rick and Shane walked to the other side of the clearing, glancing up into the trees above them. They were passing the walkers that had been beaten to death when Rick looked down. The one at his feet, the one that had made it the furthest was lying on its side. It had once been a woman with blond hair. A pair of worn jeans and a once-white tank top adorned the body, the fabric of the shirt riding up to reveal a bellybutton piercing. She had probably once been pretty and young with glowing pale skin, studying psychology or business in college or preparing to finish her last year of high school at the youngest. Her mouth was open, flashing dirty teeth.

Stilling, Rick stared down at the walker's open mouth, kneeling down next to it. His eyes widened and he glanced over in Daryl's direction. Shane, who had stopped beside him, gave Rick a puzzled look. Slowly and silently, Rick pointed to the walker's teeth. Shane knelt down beside him, looking closely before he grimaced.

"Daryl," Rick said quietly.

The redneck looked up and stepped over to them. Andrea followed him, shotgun raised just in case. Daryl glanced down to where Rick was pointing.

This walker had blood on its teeth, fresh blood that still glistened. The red liquid coasted its upper and lower teeth, covering everything between the premolars. The canines, which stuck up at an abnormal height were completely drenched.

This walker had taken a bite of something just before it died.

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**Like it? Hate it? Love it? Review either way 'cause it helps me.**

**Oh and a note: If anyone angsts over another cliffhanger, I'll be so happy. It greatly amuses me when people have that "OH!-Why-did-you-put-a-cliffhanger-at-the-end-of-a-drama-filled-chapter?" reaction.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I have been waiting and waiting for this chapter. No, they don't find out Glenn's big secret and no, I won't explain the origin of mpreg in his story YET (sorry hopeless1665), but a lot is going to happen... important things! So be prepared. And, as always, remember: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 6

Daryl hated to admit it, but he was starting to panic. It had been two days since Glenn had disappeared and they hadn't found any clues as to where he had gone.

Not long after they had found the clearing full of fallen walkers, Rick, Shane, and Andrea had agreed that they needed to head back to the vehicles. Daryl had protested, enraged that they would even suggest that after the Sofia incident. The other three were quick to point out that Glenn was an adult, not a child. Daryl quickly replied that Glenn had probably been bitten and that they needed to put him down if he was.

Finally, Daryl relented when Rick told him that if Glenn had been bitten Daryl needed to arm and guard the others. They had made it back to the motel in record time, grabbing the last of their forgotten weapons before heading back to the convoy. When they arrived, Carol had practically leapt out of the car and, when she didn't see Glenn with them, broke down into tears again. Lori coaxed her back into the car as Dale and T-Dog approached.

"Well?" Dale asked.

"He went back for the weapons we think. Took Daryl's crossbow and Shane's handgun before running off into the woods. The walkers followed him up to a clearing about three miles in," Rick explained. "When we got there, all of the walkers were dead, about thirty or so, most shot through the head."

"Thirty or more? A shotgun doesn't hold that many rounds," T-Dog replied.

"We think someone else shot them down, but we didn't find anyone around," Daryl added.

"One of the walkers had bit something not long before it died," Andrea jumped in.

Everyone froze, turning to stare at her.

"We don't know if it was Glenn's blood or not," Rick said. "It just had blood on its teeth."

"Fresh blood," Shane snarled.

Daryl snorted, shooting a glare at the other man. Shane returned the glare.

"He's likely a walker now," Shane continued. "We'll need to be ready."

Carl stepped up to Rick, grabbing at the fabric of his dad's sleeve. The child looked from his father, to Shane, to Andrea, and finally, to Daryl. The redneck was the only one to meet his eyes. Carl gulped when he saw the pure, raw anger in Daryl's gaze.

"And whose fault is that?" Carol snapped, lunging angrily at Shane. "Who drew the walkers in, huh?"

"Hey, Glenn was the one who decided to run off towards the guns instead to the cars, alright? It's his fucking fault he's in this mess," Shane snarled.

"Don't you dare-"

"Calm down, everyone," Rick said, jumping between a pissed-off Shane and an enraged Carol. "Glenn may or may not have been bitten. Either way, we need to find out. Tomorrow mornin', we'll go out looking for him."

Daryl nodded in agreement, his mouth set in a firm line of anger and discontent. He was going to be the first one out the next morning.

Sure enough, Daryl, Rick, and T-Dog set out at first light, Daryl in the lead with a rifle across his back and a handgun at his waist. T-Dog and Rick exchanged glances behind the redneck's back, curious as to why Daryl was so heavily invested in finding Glenn, whether he was alive or not.

Daryl ignored them completely, focusing instead on the task at hand. If he found Glenn alive –and he sure as hell hoped he did- he was going to beat the shit out that kid.

'Then you're going to bandage him up, turn him on his stomach, and fuck him into oblivion where all can hear it,' he thought to himself as he jumped cleanly over a fallen tree. 'They'll all know then that only you can fuck with –or just fuck- that kid. Even those motherfucking dumbass walkers will know and they'll realize that they'd better fucking leave him alone or else they'll get an arrow straight through the head.'

Daryl snarled under his breath, his anger driving him onward. When they reached the clearing where the walkers lay decaying, he kicked at one, aiming for the head. The neck snapped cleanly, the head sailing to the other side of the clearing.

"Fucking geeks," he snarled.

"When the hell did you start calling them that?" T-Dog teased. "I thought only Glenn did."

"You spend enough time with people, you pick up on things," Rick replied.

"I haven't spent that much time with the kid," Daryl said.

"You took care of him for what, a week? That's more than enough time," T-Dog smirked, laughing.

Daryl snarled at the man. He may have been ready for claim Glenn as his own in front of the others, but only if it was on his terms. He was a Dixon. He didn't follow anyone else's rules.

"Shut the fuck up. Let's get moving," Daryl snapped, heading off into the trees again.

T-Dog was snickering, but Daryl just went back to ignoring him. They trekked up the incline, Daryl once again in the lead. His eyes were fixed on the ground as he searched for Glenn's tracks.

"Someone else was definitely here. There's a different set of tracks and none of Glenn's," he said slowly, searching wildly for the familiar set of shoeprints.

"Fuck," T-Dog murmured, suddenly sobering up.

Circling back, Daryl searched the perimeter around the clearing. He shook his head, finding nothing. When he made it back to Rick and T-Dog, he shook his head again, a blank expression on his face.

"Nothing. There's nothing other than a few rabbit tracks and those footprints leading north," he said. "There's no blood or anything either. The only way he could have gotten out of here was that someone, the one who shot those walkers, carried him."

"Then who the fuck got bit?" T-Dog asked.

"Maybe the walker ate a rabbit or something before we attracted its attention," Rick suggested.

Daryl doubted it. The blood had been too fresh, still glistening. Most blood at that thin of a layer would have dried by then more likely than not. He shook himself, snapping himself out of his depressed thoughts. Daryl had never been an optimistic guy, but he had to be levelheaded. Whining and worrying about what could be or what could have been wasn't going to get him anywhere now.

"We need to keep moving," he said, stepping past the other two.

The three men headed north, following the new trail that Daryl had found. Whoever it was, this person that had helped Glenn, he was much bigger than the Asian man and much heavier too. His shoeprints, a size 12, were set deep into the muddy ground, leaving behind a clear and obvious trail.

They traveled several more miles in silence, watching for walkers and following the path as it wound up the giant hill. The only time that anyone said anything was when T-Dog asked if they could classify the hill as a mountain, to which Rick replied with a laugh and Daryl, nothing. The incline just kept rising, stretching further and further away from the highway.

About another four or so miles after they found the dead walkers, they heard a twig snap. All three of them froze, lifting up their weapons into a ready position. They looked around wildly, searching for any signs of movement. The tense moments passed, all three of them facing a different direction as a precaution. Daryl gripped his crossbow tightly, eyes focused on the trees in front of him.

"Hey!" a voice quietly called out, a male voice.

"Who are you?" Rick called out.

"Name's Avi Baum! Who are you?"

A huge man, probably about six foot three stepped out from the trees, holding his hands and rifle up. He had brown hair that was cropped close to the head and covered by a red bandana except for a long braided strand that was tucked behind his ear. His dark eyes flicked from Rick to Daryl to T-Dog, taking them all in. Muscles bulged in his thick arms as he slowly lowered his hands so they lay limp at his sides.

"What are you doing out here?" Rick asked.

"Hey, I asked for your names first," the man, Avi, replied, a faint glimmer of humor in his brown eyes.

"Rick Grimes. This is Daryl Dixon and T-Dog Douglas. Now, what are you doing out here?" Rick repeated.

Avi let out a laugh, his smile growing widely. "You guys are Rick, Daryl, and T-Dog? Really? Where are the others? Andrea, Lori, Carl, Carol, Dale, and Shane?"

"You know about us?" T-Dog asked, lowering his weapon.

Avi gave an enthusiastic nod. Rick and Daryl exchanged a glance before they too lowered their weapons.

"How?" Rick asked.

"I was sent out here to look for you lot. Emrys's orders," Avi said.

"Emrys?" Daryl asked. "What kind of fucking name is that?"

"He's Welsh originally," Avi explained, "But he rest assured, he's probably the only reason you lot are still alive. I don't like other people walking around here. We have enough trouble with the damn Lazari."

"Lazari? You mean like Lazarus from the Bible?" T-Dog asked.

"Yeah. You lot probably call them walkers or at least that's what the stations did before they all went down, but Emrys started calling them the Lazari and it stuck," Avi said.

"So there are more of you or are is it just you and this Emrys?" Rick asked.

Avi smiled and nodded. "There's four more, but you'll meet them eventually."

"Meet them?" Daryl snarled.

"Yeah. Emrys told me to come look for you, find you all, and bring you back to the Compound. That young kid, Glenn-"

"Glenn? You know where Glenn is?" Daryl snarled.

Nodding, Avi motioned behind him. "He's back at the Compound. I picked him up in the middle of the woods two nights ago. He's perfectly all right, but he asked us if we could find you lot. Also said that you needed shelter. We've got more than enough room for you all."

Rick and T-Dog stared at Avi with wide eyes. Daryl fidgeted where he stood, anxious to get to the smaller man and really see that he was okay.

"Come on," Avi said. "Let's go get the rest of your group and I'll take you up to the Compound. I'm sure Glenn is getting anxious.

When they got back to the vehicles, everyone was wary of Avi. His sheer size scared them a little. Daryl, Morales, and Merle had been the largest men ever in their group in terms of body mass and Shane probably based on size, but they had nothing on Avi. The man was a giant, towering over all of them.

Then Rick told them what Avi had said and they all jumped into action. Everyone had piled into the vehicles, Dale inviting Avi into the RV as it had more room. Dale and the RV took the lead with Rick and Shane following close behind. Daryl decided to take up the rear on his bike.

When he knew that no one was looking, a small grin flitted across his face before it quickly vanished.

They drove up the highway a few miles, turning off onto a rough, ragged road. The vehicles bounded and creaked slightly as they drove over broken asphalt and cement, driving through a small, decrepit town. It had one gas station, one restaurant, and, in the distant, an old mill. The houses that they drove past were as rundown as the rest of the town. Windows were boarded up, but had been broken in, broken pieces of glass littering the front lawns of dead grass. A few roofs had caved in and so many weeds had grown in the cracks in the sidewalks that it was the only constant source of green in the entire town. Even the walkers were scarce as they only saw two the entire three-mile ride through the small town and its subsequent neighborhoods.

"Turn here," Avi said, pointing to a dirt road that ran off into the forest.

The road was long and winding, moving up a giant hill towards the top. All around them, the forest grew denser and denser. The trees seemed to grow taller as their canopies grew and covered the sun, blocking it out almost entirely. Slowly, they made their way up the steep hill.

Everyone stared ahead as they approached the apex, spotting where the land flattened out. As they reached the top, everyone gasped.

The top of the hill had been cleared free of trees, leaving the area completely exposed to the sun. Walls of whitewashed brick rose up at least twenty feet into the air and the ornate iron gate was secured from the inside by several heavy chains and pad locks. Through the curved metal of the gates, the group could see a massive building. It was surrounded by the tall walls on all sides and set in the center of a 500 feet by 500 feet courtyard.

The building was four stories and built of red brick. The front door was set atop a small porch at the top of seven stone steps and it too was chained and bolted. Small windows were set into the exterior walls of the first, second, and fourth floors, all of which were boarded up with wood. At the front of the building, the third story was a bank of glass windows set into wooden frames. Shades had been drawn in front of them all, hiding the occupants inside. This story and the one above it were smaller in width and size than the two below them, creating an almost tower-like effect.

As the vehicles came to a stop and Avi stepped out of the RV, one of the shades on the third floor was brushed aside and a small, dark-haired woman came into view. She was in her early twenties, probably not much earlier than Amy had been when she died. A sniper rifle was in one hand as she used the other to wave Avi towards the house.

Smiling, Avi jogged over to the gates, pulling a small ring of keys from his pocket. With swiftness that none of them would have expected from a man of his size, Avi unlocked all of the padlocks that hung on the inside of the gate. Unwinding the many chains that were wrapped around the iron fence, Avi quickly pushed the gates in and motioned for Dale and the others to bring their vehicles inside the Compound's walls. Dale and the others parked their vehicles beside a beat up station wagon and a much newer Ford truck as Avi quickly closed the gates behind them, securing them closed once again.

"I can see why you call it the Compound," Rick said as he stepped out of his SUV.

"Impressive, isn't it? The house belonged to some big shot from New York. He only came down a couple times a year, we think since the inside seemed barely used when we got here," Avi laughed, patting the locks as they fell against the heavy chains that held the gates closed.

"You're sure we can stay here with you?" Dale asked. "The last place we were allowed the stay-"

"It's perfectly fine as long as you contribute to our survival," a gruff voice said.

No one had noticed the man approaching from around the back of the house. He was of average height with brown hair awkwardly cut at his chin and wild, green eyes. A shotgun was thrown over one shoulder and several knives were strapped to his belt.

"Ah, Lance Larson, meet Glenn's people," Avi said cheerfully as he stepped over to the others.

The brunette nodded in greeting to them before glancing over at Avi.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked.

"Emrys asked me to bring them so I did," Avi replied.

That seemed to be enough to settle Lance as he broke out in a smile.

"Great. It'll be nice to have some new company. You can only spend so long with people before they begin to run you up the wall," Lance laughed.

He lead them around back and into a large plotted garden. Various sorts of vegetables grew through the vast yard, everything from zucchini to tomatoes to things that half of them couldn't even name. Lance and Avi shot them grins as Lance pulled out his own set of keys and unlocked the four locks set into the back door of the building.

"Apparently the guy was a health nut or something too," Avi added.

"The basement is still packed full of boxes too," Lance snickered. "He was prepared for anything, even a zombie apocalypse. Luckily for us, I don't think the guy was here when it happened."

The door swung in to reveal a posh, but comfortable living room and kitchen. After months of living out of tents, the group of Atlanta survivors gasped at the beautiful interior of the house. The couches had been stripped of their fabric coverings and cushions, but the beautiful wooden frames remained, situated around a low table full of recently washed dishes. The art had been removed from the walls, the wood from the frames used to board up the windows. However, the paintings themselves had been left resting up against the molding at the base of the walls, the heavy paper glued permanently to the hard canvas backing. The kitchen featured some of the most expensive appliances available, dark granite counter tops, and cabinets that had to have been been custom made.

Three people, two women and a man stood on the far side of the room. One of them the woman from earlier, the dark-haired young woman with the rifle on her shoulder. She was grim faced, taking her time as she glanced over each one of them. The other two stood on either side of her, both smiling. Clearly, they trusted this Emrys too. The second woman was older, probably in her forties with eyes as blue as Daryl's, wide set, but proud. The man who stood beside her was older than the rest, only a few years younger than Dale. His hair wasn't completely white, but rather a salt and pepper color, his once dark locks splattered with gray. His skin was darker than that of the others as well, tinted with a deep tan.

"Tasha Maxwell, Anna Hume, and Logan Jacobs, meet the Atlanta survivors," Avi said.

The three nodded their hellos before Anna, the young woman they'd seen on the third floor, turned around and stormed up the stairs behind her. Sighing, Tasha, the older woman, shook her head and gave the newcomers an apologetic look.

"She isn't happy about having new people around," Tasha explained.

"We can understand that," Rick replied.

"I'm sure you'd all rather see Glenn than talk to us though, am I right?" Logan chuckled with a thick Texan accent. When he saw their enthusiastic nods, he continued, "Unfortunately, he hasn't been completely well. The pain in his stomach that he had when Avi found him has gotten worse. He's confined to a bed upstairs, but I will allow you all to visit, just one at a time. Can't have him completely worn out if he is to get better."

"Are you a doctor or something?" Daryl asked, speaking for the first time since they'd met Avi in the forest.

"I was a trauma surgeon and emergency room doctor back in Austin," the older man replied.

"How'd you get out here, if you don't mind me asking," Andrea piped up.

"Vacation. I took a few days off to see a part of the country that I'd never been to before. I've definitely gotten a good look," Logan laughed, motioning to Rick. "He asked to see you first."

Surprised, Rick nodded and followed the man upstairs while Tasha, Avi, and the others took a seat in the living room. Daryl remained standing, still not letting go of the gun in his hand. He was tense, his blue eyes taking in the room and the people in it.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder, he glanced over his shoulder at Avi. The man gave him a small smile, holding up Daryl's precious crossbow. The blue eyes flicked up to Avi's, one eyebrow rising slightly.

"He said you'd want it back."

Daryl stared down at the crossbow as Avi passed it to him. The man quickly moved to sit down with the others, crossing his legs on the floor so he was at a somewhat normal height with the others. Daryl's eyes never left his crossbow, running his hands over the smooth wood. As a Dixon, he refused to let tears come to his eyes, but inside his chest constricted.

The crossbow had been meticulously and lovingly cleaned and oiled since he'd last held it two days earlier.

He knew that Glenn had cleaned it.

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**Hahahahahaha! No cliffhanger, just some drama. Like it? Hate it? Love it? Review because either way, it helps me.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Guess what hopeless1667? Your answer will finally be explained in this chapter! Exciting, isn't it? Well, I hope that everyone likes it. I really love the positive reaction I've gotten with this story. It's really driven me to write at least one chapter a day. REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT.**

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Chapter 7

Rick knocked on the wood door, waiting for the quiet reply from within. When it came, he slowly opened the door and slipped inside. Closing the door behind him, he turned to look at the bed that was pushed into the far corner. The room was sparse and the walls were white. Apart from the bed, there was a single chair and a small stool pulled up beside it. A glass, chipped slightly, but still usable, sat on the stool and an empty bowl and small towel rested on the floor beside the bed.

He smiled when he recognized the short locks of smooth dark hair and the pale skin as Glenn slowly sat up, groaning. He was dressed in a black button-up t-shirt and his bangs stuck to his forehead from sweat. Rick rushed over to him, grabbing Glenn around the waist. The Asian man shot him a thankful look before he rested back against the pillow that Rick had propped up for him, rubbing his stomach slowly to calm it.

"It's good to see you," Rick said as he took a seat in the chair beside the bed.

"You too," Glenn replied, moaning quietly as his stomach gave a roll.

"Are you sure you should be sitting up?" Rick asked.

Glenn nodded and smiled a little. "It'll pass in a few seconds. I just can't really walk around."

"One of the guys downstairs said he was a surgeon. I know they aren't exactly the most versatile of doctors, but has he figured out what's wrong with you?"

Glenn glanced down at his hands and nodded. The scared look that Rick saw in his eyes had him worried.

"Is it something bad?" Rick asked.

"I don't know yet," Glenn said honestly.

"You don't know yet?"

Sighing, the younger man lifted his head and brushed his bangs off his forehead. "No, I don't. I have to wait a while to see."

"Glenn, I-"

"I don't want to talk about it right now, Rick," the younger man snapped.

Raising his hands in a defensive position, Rick sat back in his chair and nodded. "Okay, okay! How about we talk about how you got here?"

"That I can talk about," Glenn laughed softly. "When Shane took off for the cars, I knew we were going to leave those weapons behind. We needed them. I knew we did so I went back for them."

"And the walkers chased you?" Rick asked.

"Yeah. I don't know why, but they decided to come after me, maybe because I was closer. Anyway, by the time I got Shane's handgun and Daryl's crossbow, they were already at the door. I had to go through the window, got scraped up a bit from the glass," Glenn said.

He sighed, reaching up to run his fingers over his clothed shoulder.

"That drove them crazy. Fresh blood always does. You know that. They chased me up into the trees for a good few miles. Then I got tired; they started getting closer. I was lucky that Avi was at the top of that ridge, really. I tripped over a tree root, fell, shouted, sprawled out on the ground. The second I was down, Avi started shooting. He took out all of them," Glenn explained.

"A few had their heads bashed in. What happened there?" Rick asked.

"They were the ones that got closest. Avi bashed their heads in with his gun so he didn't need to waste more bullets," Glenn replied. "I was pretty worn out by the time he was done. I hit my head pretty hard on ground. He carried me all the way up here and they've taken care of me ever since."

Rick smiled and clapped Glenn on the shoulder. The younger man stiffened and hissed in pain. Quickly pulling away, Rick frowned, eyeing the shoulder. Glenn waved him off.

"It's okay. The scratches are still healing."

"What kind of scratches are we talking about?" Rick asked. "I don't think scratches would hurt that much."

"They were from glass, Rick. Several got pretty deep," Glenn said.

Rick glanced once more down at Glenn's shoulder, but nodded. "If you say so."

Glenn sighed and rested back against the pillow behind him. He glanced own at his hands, which relaxed in his lap. Reaching up, he wiped some sweat from his forehead. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and rested his head against the wall behind him.

"Can you hand me that glass of water?" he asked.

Grabbing the water, Rick held it out to Glenn. Opening his eyes, the Asian man gripped the glass and sipped from it slowly. He groaned softly, setting the cool glass against his forehead. Rick's eyebrows furrowed as he watched the younger man.

Glenn held out the glass to him, clenching his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut. Rick quickly took the glass from him as Glenn rocked forward, whining in the back of his mouth. A convulsion ran through the thin body and Rick, having had experience from when his son had been sick, grabbed the bowl from the floor and shoved it into Glenn's lap.

Vomit poured into the bowl as Glenn shook and coughed, spitting out small chunks of whatever he'd eaten recently. Rick grimaced at the smell, but took the bowl away when Glenn had stopped, setting it on the floor once again. He helped Glenn lean back again, cleaning the younger man's mouth with the towel he'd found on the floor.

"Thanks," Glenn muttered as he slid down the smooth pillow, curling his legs up so his feet were flat against the mattress. "Fuck, I hate this."

"Do you need me to get that surgeon for you?" Rick asked.

Glenn shook his head. "Logan has done as much as he can at this point," Glenn groaned, "But I do need you to do me a favor."

"Sure," Rick said, sitting forward attentively.

Glenn opened his eyes again, fixing them on Rick's. The brown eyes seemed tired, full of pain, but a spark of something else that Rick couldn't identify. He'd seen it several times in the younger man's face in the last month, especially since he'd gotten sick.

"When you go downstairs, I need you to send Daryl up. Tell him to leave his crossbow behind."

"Daryl?" Rick asked, frowning. "Why?"

"Just do it. Please don't ask. Not now, at least," Glenn groaned, setting his hands back in his lap and rubbing his stomach slowly with one.

Rick nodded and silently stood, heading to the door. He glanced over his shoulder at Glenn one more time before he left.

Jogging down the steps, his eyes brightening when he felt the cheerful attitude in the room. Everyone, but Daryl, was sitting on the couches, chatting easily. Lori and T-Dog were telling Avi and the three others where they'd been since the outbreak while the others chimed in every now and then, telling their own stories and those of the people they'd lost.

Daryl glanced up at him, meeting his gaze when Rick came down the steps. Rick silently motioned to him, urging him upstairs. Stepping up beside the former deputy sheriff, Daryl cocked his head slightly to the side, silently questioning. Rick just motioned upstairs again, holding up two fingers then pointed to the right to silently tell him where to go, urging him on.

"Leave the crossbow."

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Daryl handed over his favorite weapon and walked up the steps. When he was about halfway up, he stopped and glanced behind him to find Rick gone. Turning forward, he bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When he reached the second floor, he turned to the right, eyes flicking to the first door. Reaching out, he laid his hand on the door handle before he paused. He stared at the wood of the door in front of him, trying to calm his heart, which beat harshly in his chest.

He took a deep breath and pushed into the room.

Glenn was lying in the same position he'd been in when Rick had left him a few seconds earlier, his legs bent under the blanket that covered him. His brown eyes were open, staring up at the ceiling, hands folded over his stomach. Slowly, he glanced over at Daryl, shifting his head to the side. He smiled a little, moving to sit up as Daryl came closer and stood beside the bed.

When he was comfortable against the pillow once again, Glenn motioned for him to sit down. Daryl shifted, grimacing for a moment before he reluctantly took a seat, gripping his thighs tightly. Glenn stared at him for a few moments, dark eyes unreadable.

Neither of them said anything for several minutes, just staring at each other and enjoying the quiet. Slowly, Daryl's hands, which had been clenched around his thighs in a death grip, loosened until they were completely relaxed. They both ignored the smell that rose from the bowl full of vomit at Daryl's feet

Finally, Glenn said, "I'm sorry if I held you guys back. You could have gone on without me."

Rolling his eyes, Daryl snarled at the younger man. "As if we'd leave you behind, kid."

Glenn smirked, brushing some wet bangs out of his eyes. "Glad to know I'm so important to you all."

"You are important, kid. None of us can scavenge like you can," Daryl replied.

"Yeah, like that's worth anything this far from the city," Glenn growled.

"Don't be like that, kid. It looks like you're starting to believe what Shane was telling you."

Glenn glared at the other man, but his face quickly softened. He picked at the edge of the blanket that was spread across the bed nervously.

"You got something to say, kid?" Daryl asked. "I don't know why else you would want to see me so soon after we got here."

Nodding, Glenn took a deep breath and patted down the blanket in his lap.

"I'm still sick," he said slowly.

"Yeah, I can smell it."

Glenn chuckled at the curt reply, a small smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

"When I first got here, Emrys and Logan took a good look at me and they know what's wrong with them."

Daryl sat up straighter in his chair, his interest perked.

"Well?" he asked.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and they both glanced over at it. Daryl frowned and tensed again, preparing to attack if something went wrong. The door swung in and a man with short, platinum blond hair poked his head in. His ice blue eyes flicked from Glenn to Daryl and he smiled a little, nodding to Glenn. He sniffed the air and grimaced again.

"Threw up again?" the man asked.

"Yeah, when Rick was up here," Glenn replied.

"You want me to clean the bowl out for you?" the blond asked.

"That would be good. Oh, Daryl, this is Emrys. Emrys, Daryl," Glenn quickly said.

Emrys gave Daryl a once over, his eyes narrowing a little.

"Not bad. Have you told him yet?" Emrys asked.

"I was just about to," Glenn sighed.

Freezing, Emrys gave Glenn a questioning look. Daryl snarled at the younger, blond man, tensing up even more. He didn't like not being able to see the man's body or hands, which were hidden behind the door.

"Do you want me to come back later?" Emrys questioned.

Glenn shook his head. "I-I'd rather have you here, to be honest. He may believe me more if he sees you."

Daryl glanced back and forth between the two younger men, frowning heavily. "What the fuck is going on, Glenn?"

"It turns out that everyone is infected with it, every single one of us. When we die, no matter how, we'll need someone nearby to shoot us in the head again before we come back alive," Glenn said, his voice shaking.

Daryl's eyes widened. He was frozen in his chair, unsure what to think. Glenn sighed and rubbed his forehead with the base of his palm.

"However, it seems that the infection that turns people into walkers has another side effect," Glenn murmured slowly. "The scientists that were studying it weren't quite sure why it only affects certain people, but it seems that I'm one of those people."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Daryl snarled, starting to panic.

He and Glenn glanced back at Emrys as he pushed the door open further, stepping into the room. Daryl's eyes widened as he took in what Emrys had been hiding. The man was slim and long, about the same height as Daryl. He wore jeans that were loose and rolled up into cuffs that hung around his ankles. His feet were bare and Daryl could see that one of them, the right, was missing the last three toes. It looked like they had been chewed off by some wild animal, but had long since healed. His shirt was a white button-up and it stretched tightly over his round abdomen.

Daryl slowly stood up, staring at the blond man. He took a few steps back, glancing down at Glenn who was blushing heavily.

"Y-You're-"

"Yes, I'm pregnant," Emrys sighed as he closed the door behind him. "Six months, if you must know." (1)

"How is that possible?" Daryl hissed.

Emrys shrugged and replied, "How are dead people able to come back as a Lazarus? I first went to my doctor when the first cases of Lazari started popping up in Canada. I was throwing up, feverish, barely able to move. We were all terrified to be honest. My doctor thought I was the first case of the virus in Georgia, but it turned out that he was wrong. We all had it. It just reacted differently in me."

Shuffling over to the bed, Emrys sat down on the edge of it with a groan, rubbing his swollen stomach gently. Daryl backed up so he stood beside Glenn, his hand hanging within four inches of Glenn's shoulder.

"They took an ultrasound, trying to see if I had an inflamed organ or something. That's when they discovered the uterus, the birth canal, and well, the baby. I was barely a month along at the time, but they knew right away what was wrong with me. None of us could figure it out. I'd had scans taken of the same place before because I used to have stomach problems when I was a kid and I'd never had those organs before," Emrys explained.

"How did they know it was the walker virus?" Daryl asked.

"The doctors did some tests and they determined that it was the only way for me to have suddenly gained an internal female reproductive system. This all happened at the same time that the Lazari started appearing. If a virus could reverse everything that we know about biology, that dead people could come back to life, why couldn't it give me extra organs," Emrys sighed.

"Besides," he added, "There's something else that I have that sets me and Glenn apart from the rest of you."

He stuck his right leg out, wiggling the two remaining toes.

"I had the last three bitten off by a Lazarus a few days before Atlanta fell. I knew I was going to die, but Avi refused to kill me until I'd turned. He just couldn't do it. We sat on the roof of our apartment building, just waiting. Hours passed, then two days. When I didn't turn, we started to panic."

Emrys took a deep breath and continued, "We managed to escape and made our way to a refugee camp on the outskirts. They had a doctor there who was willing to take a look at my foot, Dr. Oldman. She examined me, ran tests, did everything. A week later, when the camp fell, I still hadn't turned and as you can see, that fucker got a good bite in me."

"Holy fuck," Daryl muttered when it dawned on him. "You're immune."

Emrys nodded and rolled up one of the sleeves of his shirt. He held up his arm to show Daryl the bite mark on his arm, just below the elbow. It had already healed over and scabbed.

"I got this three months ago, when we first discovered this place."

Glancing down at Glenn, Daryl sunk down on the bed next to him, eyes wide with shock. Glenn nudged him with his shoulder, wincing slightly from the movement. Daryl looked over at him, glancing at the Asian man's shoulder. Glenn met his gaze and slowly nodded, reaching up with his left hand to draw away the collar of his shirt. A walker had bit into the apex where his shoulder connected to his arm, leaving a set of deep, red teeth marks. A shiver ran up Glenn's spine as Daryl ran his fingers around the edge of the wound, his breath ghosting over the skin.

Neither Daryl nor Glenn realized when Emrys stood and left with a smile on his face. They were too enraptured in each other. Daryl lifted his legs up so he lay next to Glenn, pulling him down so he lay on his back. Glenn couldn't turn onto his right side because of the healing shoulder so Daryl turned onto his left and pressed his body up against Glenn's. Their faces were turned towards one another, noses barely an inch apart.

Daryl's hand, which had been softly caressing Glenn's injured shoulder, lifted and floated down. It stopped just before Glenn's lower stomach, pausing nervously. Glenn glanced down and smiled, grabbing Daryl's shaking hand in his. He pressed it down onto his stomach, closing his eyes at the feeling. The skin, even under his shirt, was highly sensitive to any sort of touch.

"How'd you get bit?"

"You found all the walkers, right? The ones that Avi killed?"

"Yeah?"

"A couple of them had their heads smashed in, right? I tripped on a root and one of them was close enough to get a bite in as I fell. He would have gotten in a few more if Avi hadn't bashed it with the butt of his gun."

Daryl nodded, mentally reminding himself to thank Avi wholeheartedly for that later. He gently stroked Glenn's stomach with his hand, enjoying the shivers that ran through Glenn's body.

"So, are you?"

Glenn nodded. "That's why I've been sick. Emrys had the same thing before he went to the doctor."

"What about the… birth?"

"Emrys has a birth canal that goes to his… ass so we assume that I have one as well. If something goes wrong, Logan was a trauma surgeon. He'd have no problem."

Daryl froze and the hand that rested on Glenn's stomach tightened. He slung his other arm under Glenn's head like an additional pillow, his hand gripping Glenn's good shoulder tightly. Snarling under his breath, his eyes narrowed into slits as he thought about all of the possibilities. Glenn may be immune to walker bites, but that didn't mean that a walker still wouldn't tear him apart and eat him. He could die in childbirth. So many things could happen.

Glenn smiled at the possessive, protective streak that Daryl was showing. He'd never thought the man would be like this with anyone except his brother. What surprised Glenn even more though was how easily Daryl had accepted it. Perhaps bringing Emrys in had been helpful. You couldn't really deny something that was right in front of your eyes.

Closing his eyes, Glenn shifted as close to Daryl as he could without jostling his shoulder. His breathing slowed and evened out, becoming relaxed. He'd been so nervous to see them, Daryl more than anyone. It wasn't every day that you found out that one of your own was a man capable of bearing children. Now, however, Glenn didn't care. Even if no one else accepted it, all that mattered to Glenn was that Daryl had.

And that meant the world to him.

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**(1): I know it seems weird that Emrys is six months pregnant when the actual virus seemed to have only really been around for a few months in the first season, but according to Jenner, "Wildfire" was declared 194 days (or so) before the group arrives at the CDC, making it about six months since the disease broke out, and 63 days since the disease went global. Since the CDC was involved in "Wildfire" from what seems like the start, then it would appear that the disease started in the Americas, possible the US or Canada. This is the assumption I've made so it fits the timeline for Emrys perfectly. Remember that the cities didn't fall right away, but rather took a while to be completely overrun which I'll assume to be around 3 months pre-storyline.**

**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Review anyway because reviews can only help me.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I am so happy that I've gotten this far with this story. It's going strong, I'd say since I often get bored when I get to a certain point in a story, but not with this one. I just love the two of them SO much. _WARNING_: This chapter does feature Daryl "staking his claim" aka sex between our two beloved main characters. Just thought I'd let you all know. There's fluff too so if you just want the fluff, read up to paragraph 23. I hate it whenever someone explicitly notes where the mature content starts because it really breaks up the flow of the story so I'm not going to do that. Anyway, REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 8

Glenn refused to see anyone else that day, preferring to spend it with Daryl. They lay beside each other, talking quietly. Well, it was mostly Glenn who talked, about family, friends, his life growing up in Michigan. Nothing of any real importance anymore, just memories of a time when his worst fears had been the next test score or how he was going to pay rent on his limited salary.

Daryl just listened, commenting every now and then. He had never been much of a talker, more of a yeller and an easy to annoy kind of guy. Occasionally, he would interject a comment or to, usually something extremely crass or offensive, but Glenn knew better than to take his comments personally. He just laughed them off, capable of doing so now that his stomach had calmed down. Now that the stress was gone, so had most of his queasiness.

"You had a pretty good life, kid," Daryl said quietly when Glenn fell into silence.

Glenn shrugged. "I suppose so. I was comfortable, never had to really worry about fending for myself or anything like that."

"Some people had it a lot harder than that," Daryl replied.

"Like you maybe? Like Carl does now?" Glenn asked, rubbing his stomach. He closed his eyes for a moment, before adding, "Like our child will. That's why Lori didn't want me to tell anyone about her pregnancy. She wasn't sure she wanted to bring a baby into this life, an existence after the world ended."

Daryl glanced down at Glenn's hand and his lay entwined, rested on his lover's stomach. He snarled quietly, drawing Glenn's attention back up to him.

"Have you thought about it?" Daryl asked slowly.

Glenn paused, shaking his head. "I thought about it once, but I decided against it."

He glanced up at Daryl.

"Unless you think-"

"No, I don't think you should get rid of it so calm down, kid," Daryl snarled. "After losing Merle, why would I do that to my next family member?"

Smiling, Glenn nodded in understanding and looked down at his stomach. "I was surprised at how easily you accepted it. I thought you'd put up more of a fight than that."

Daryl snorted and rolled his eyes. "It's hard to ignore something when it's right in front of your face."

"Would you have believed me if Emrys hadn't been here?" Glenn asked.

"I don't know. You've never lied to me –to any of us- 'fore so that may answer your question," Daryl said. "Besides, there are dead people wandering the woods outside. Why shouldn't it be possible for a man to have a baby?"

Chuckling, Glenn silently agreed. He was cut off when he felt Daryl shifting next to him, looking up as the other man rose up beside him, kneeling on one elbow. Glenn blushed slightly as Daryl's hand let go of his own and slipped under his shirt, teasing the sensitive skin. Groaning quietly, Glenn shot Daryl a fake glare.

He hissed when Daryl yanked his shirt higher, biting at the skin of his stomach. The other man grinned at the soft noises Glenn was making as he nipped at and attacked his lover. Reaching up, Glenn grabbed Daryl's thick hair, forcing the older man to lift his head.

"I thought you wanted to keep this a secret," Glenn said quietly. "You keep going down that road and we'll be naked and loud before we know it. I don't think that the others are going to miss that."

Daryl snorted and moved up Glenn's body, grabbing the inside of his thighs with his strong hands. Forcing Glenn's legs apart, he set his knees between them, holding his younger lover open. Glenn frowned, becoming more and more confused by the moment. Smirking at the younger man, Daryl hovered over Glenn, grabbing his chin roughly. He dragged the Asian man up into a rough kiss, the force of it pushing Glenn back down to the bed.

Lapping at Glenn's lips, Daryl pushed in and attacked, his tongue completely overwhelming the smaller man's. Glenn groaned softly, not even bothering to fight back as Daryl licked at his tongue. The warm appendages wrapped around each other, brushing along each other. Their moans vibrated through their mouths and into each other, making them both shiver wildly.

Breaking the kiss, Daryl stared down at the smaller man and, grabbing his wrists, pinned him to the bed. Glenn panted slightly, slowly opening his eyes. He hadn't even realized he closed them.

"I just don't give a fuck what they think anymore," Daryl said in complete serious. "There are other things I'd rather think about."

Letting go of one of Glenn's wrists, he reached down and cupped Glenn between the legs.

Gasping loudly, Glenn arched his hips and spread his legs even further. Daryl smirked a little, but then he glanced down at Glenn's waist, the smile draining from his face.

"Uh, can we do this when you're… like this?"

Glenn laughed loudly and clear. He nodded, grinning when he saw the slight blush on Daryl's face.

"I don't think I've ever seen a Dixon look so embarrassed," he teased.

Daryl snarled at him, making an annoyed face. Glenn shook his head and, reaching down, pushed Daryl's hand hard against his arousal. Moaning, he grinned and started rocking his hips.

"It's okay to have sex. I heard Emrys and Avi going at it last night," Glenn said.

"Seriously? The blondie and that huge guy?" Daryl said in surprise.

"Yeah. Who do you think the other father of Emrys's baby is?" Glenn asked. "He and Emrys have been together for a long time. Emrys left Wales, his home country, to be with Avi here in the US, in Atlanta. They consider themselves married, even though gay marriages weren't recognized in Georgia. He even changed his name to Emrys Reece-Baum."

Glenn's grip on Daryl's hip tightened.

"Are you sure that you want the others to know now? I mean, I'll have to tell them about the baby eventually and that's going to bring up some questions, but if you want to wait a little while so you can prepare yourself, I can do that."

Snorting, Daryl removed his hand from the apex between Glenn's legs, gliding it up the younger man's chest to quickly unbutton it. He brushed the fabric of the shirt out of the way, revealing the pale chest and stomach, which quivered slightly as Glenn's breath hitched. Placing a quick peck on Glenn's lips, Daryl quickly latched onto his neck, sucking at the skin.

Glenn moaned, grabbing the back of Daryl's neck with his free hand. The other was still pinned to the bed by Daryl's hand, the fingers curling and straightening from the feeling of Daryl biting and kissing the curve of his neck. His moans turned into a slight squeak when the larger man moved down, kissing the small dip between his pectoral muscles. Quickly covering his mouth, Glenn blushed.

Daryl smirked at him as he pinched the right nipple, watching as Glenn's face contorted in pleasure, panting harshly. The first three times they'd had sex, it had been from behind, making it impossible for Daryl to see Glenn's face. Usually, he preferred that. It made things less personal, less emotional and for a man like Daryl, that was usually better.

Not now though. He'd become attached to the smaller, Asian man despite the things he'd grown up hearing about him, even if Daryl had never fully believed them, especially the gay part.

"Chinks are sneaky little bastards," he remembered his father saying. "They'll try to kill you for the dirty clothes of your back just 'cause they want to see all the blood."

"Gays come from Satan, baby brother," Merle muttered in his ear, voice full of venom. "Watch out for the cocksuckers. They'll attack you in your sleep and won't stop even if you try to fight them off."

Glenn had done none of those things. If fact, he'd seemed more wary of Daryl and his brother when they'd first arrived in camp than they were of him. Perhaps he'd senses the hate coming from Merle, the deep distrust that stemmed just from seeing the color of Glenn's skin. If Merle had found out about Glenn being gay, Daryl deeply doubted that Glenn would have left that camp alive.

Pushing the depressing thoughts aside, the redneck moved back up Glenn's body and drew the other man into a deep kiss. They groaned together, rocking against one another. They were in perfect unison.

"Do you mind, uh, doing it like this?" Glenn murmured.

Daryl raised his head in surprise, frowning. Glenn blushed heavily, drawing back against the bed.

"Uh, do you mind if we face each other?" he asked. "I've never seen your face before when we've done this."

Blinking, Daryl smirked and nodded, giving Glenn a quick peck on the lips before he moved back down. He licked a path across the pale chest, tweaking the hard nipples each once on his way to his destination. Stopping at the still flat stomach, Daryl nuzzled it slightly, shocking Glenn with his affection. Glenn set up on his elbows, watching as Daryl lavished the lower half of his stomach with attention.

He opened his mouth to say something when the blanket, along with his cotton sleeping pants and boxers, were yanked down and Daryl quickly engulfed him. Throwing his head back, Glenn gasped and slipped from his elbows, collapsing onto the bed. He let out a soft cry as Daryl ran his tongue up and down Glenn's manhood, teasing him.

"You sure are sensitive, kid," Daryl said as he ran the tip of his tongue over the tip.

Glenn could only moan in reply, gripping Daryl's hair tightly in his claw-like fingers. He slowly started to raise and drop his hips, trying to find more friction. Daryl grabbed his hips in a vice grip, forcing them down against the bed.

"I've never had a man as sensitive as you," Daryl murmured, running his finger around his lover's entrance.

Glenn blushed heavily, but didn't dwell on it. He was too distracted at the finger that was pushing on the outer ring of his entrance, making him moan and keen in pleasure. When he finger disappeared, he whined, but he was quickly silenced as the finger returned, slick this time as it buried itself inside him.

Grabbing the back of his knees, Glenn pulled them to his chest, then spread them, panting hard as Daryl toyed with him, pumping the finger in and out of him slowly. Daryl's eyes were fixed on his face, watching attentively as Glenn writhed, keening in pleasure. His mouth hung open as he panted and moaned, eyes squeezed shut.

With his free hand, Daryl reached out and set it against Glenn's cheek, staring as the brown eyes opened to look up at him. Glenn frowned, groaning as Daryl's finger slipped back into him, his body jerking as he tightened around him. Slowly, Daryl moved his hand down Glenn's face to his neck before slipping it down to his chest. He made his way across the pale expanse of skin-covered muscle, his other hand still slowly pumping in and out of Glenn.

"Daryl?" Glenn panted.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Daryl jerked back and shook his head a little to clear it. His hands stilled, his finger buried completely inside Glenn. The younger man shifted slightly, whining softly.

"Sorry," Daryl murmured quietly, "I just got caught up in my thoughts."

Glenn grabbed the back of Daryl's neck, pulling the taller man down onto him, pressing their hot chests together. They both moaned quietly as they starred at each other, extending their tongues so they met in midair. Their tongues played for a while, both caught up completely in the feelings. As Daryl moved and nipped at Glenn's jawline, the younger man clenched tightly around Daryl's finger, shivering.

Carefully, Daryl slipped in his second finger, the smaller man under him squirming as he adjusted. They lay like that for a while, Daryl working on loosening Glenn's slick, hot passage while Glenn bit and kissed the bigger man's neck and chin. Finally, the third finger was in and Glenn threw his head back again, hissing slightly from the pain.

"Do you want to know a secret?" Daryl murmured in Glenn's ear as he slowed the thrusts of his hand.

Glenn didn't reply vocally, though he did nod a few times. Daryl paused for a moment before thrusting his fingers in particularly hard, making Glenn gasp loudly and raise his hips off the bed. Daryl chose that moment, when the younger man –his Glenn- was writhing in pleasure and moaning.

"I like you, kid, Glenn. You're mine and I hope you know that," he whispered, latching onto the lobe of Glenn's ear, pulling on it lightly.

Wincing slightly, Glenn nodded viciously, his whole body shaking from the sheer power of what was happening. He gripped Daryl's neck tightly, panting as he replied, "I know, Daryl. Now, please?"

Satisfied with the answer, Daryl ripped his fingers out of Glenn, enjoying the soft whines. He yanked off his shirt and pants, kicking the shoes, socks, and boxers onto the floor. As he descended back down on his lover, he gripped Glenn's thighs tightly, holding them up and open. Slowly, he ran the tip of his manhood up and down the dark crack between the globes of Glenn's ass, drawing soft mews out of the younger man.

Daryl grinned wildly as he positioned himself over Glenn, setting the thin, but powerful legs around his thighs. Now that his hands were free, he intertwined one with Glenn's, the other sneaking down to grab his hip.

He eased into Glenn, not daring to rush. The younger man was beautiful under him, biting softly at his lower lip as inch-by-inch, Daryl sunk in. Whenever the Asian let out a soft cry of displeasure, Daryl stopped, fighting to keep control. The heat was amazing, enticing him to bury himself fully, but Daryl took his time. He wasn't about to let him get hurt again.

He'd just gotten Glenn back and Daryl knew he was lucky. If any of the others had been the one to run off and get bit, they would have been dead, leaving their remaining loved ones behind to grieve. Glenn and Daryl, however, didn't have to face that, at least not from a walker bite. His lover was immune to the bites because the virus had reacted differently to his body, giving him women parts inside and the ability to bear children.

Daryl had never given much thought to having children before. He hunted and spent most of his time before the breakout trying to survive, fending for himself out in the back woods from the tiny shack he'd been raised in. Occasionally, he'd find a drifter or a lost traveler who was willing for a good fuck. Sometimes, he went into the bigger cities nearby looking for tail. Women didn't interest him. They didn't have the anatomy for him.

Now here he was: in bed with his male lover and a child on the way. He found that he quite liked the idea though he wasn't about to tell Glenn, or anyone else for that matter.

When he saw fully seated, Daryl paused, letting Glenn get used to the full feeling. Seeing a clear sign to continue from Glenn, he started rocking, thrusting in and out. It didn't take long for their lovemaking, which Daryl would never call it aloud, to get wild. Glenn was practically bent in half, his back arched as he whined and cried, his face red from the exertion. Daryl pounded in and out of him, angling himself to hit his smaller lover's pleasure spot. When Glenn tried to draw the edge of his pillow into his mouth to quiet his cries, Daryl grabbed it from him and threw it behind him.

Grabbing Glenn's hips, he helped him up into a sitting position, Daryl still buried deep inside him. Glenn's eyes were glossed over with lust as he looked Daryl in the eye, his hands clenched on the larger man's shoulders.

"Daryl, please-"

"Don't quiet yourself, kid. I want them to know, I really do."

Glenn blushed heavily and nodded, shifting his hips slightly. Daryl took the cue, wildly bucking up into the smaller man. Glenn let out a cry, throwing his arms over Daryl's shoulders as he rode the other man.

"Come on, kid," Daryl murmured in his ear as he grabbed the younger man's neglected manhood, stroking it a few times. "Come for me, Glenn."

The name did it. Glenn exploded all over their stomachs, the hot liquid splashing against their skin. His passage clenched and Glenn tossed his head back, letting out a cry as Daryl grunted and came inside him. Their bodies twitched and hummed with pleasure as Daryl poured into the smaller man, coating him.

As the last of the tremors left their bodies, the two lovers collapsed onto the bed, panting hard. When he'd recovered enough to move, Daryl grabbed the blanket and threw it over them before pulling Glenn against his chest. His hands slipped down the smaller man's chest and stomach, wiping away the cooling substance left behind by their activities. The hands settled on the flat expanse of skin between Glenn's hips, where Daryl knew their child grew.

He smirked into Glenn's hair, wiggling his hips slightly to settle his manhood between the small, firm cheeks of Glenn's ass. The other man let out a groan of appreciation, his eyes closing as he started to drift off to sleep. Glenn's hands joined Daryl's, their fingers wrapping around one another.

"I'm just glad you're okay," Daryl snarled into the silence.

Glenn snorted and chuckled, settling against the larger man, enjoying the feeling of his warm breath on the back of his neck.

"That's good to know, Daryl, thanks."

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**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Review anyway! I understand if anyone thinks that Daryl is maybe being OCC, but I feel like he's one of those guys that accepts things pretty quickly. Think about how quickly he seemed to "get over" the whole Merle incident. He's pissed off for a few episodes, but by the time season 2 rolls around, he's too busy with other things to even think about it. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Wow, I've done a lot of long chapters in this story. I'm pretty impressed with myself. I hope you enjoy. Sorry if Shane seems a bit harsh or OCC. He's just such a harsh guy in opposition to Rick (as he is a FOIL character for him in the first two seasons), that I can totally see him getting all angry. Plus, he did go somewhat psycho around this time in the TV show. REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 9

_He felt warm, comfortable. His arms were wrapped around a slim waist, pulling the thinner body up against his chest. Smooth hair that he knew wasn't his was flung across his face, tickling at his closed eyelids. His fingers were curved along the edges of hard muscles and a bony shoulder stuck into his arm a little. While he found this strange, he didn't dare stir in case he broke the illusion. He'd open his eyes and he's be back in his bedroll in that tent, listening and searching for any signs of walkers._

_The body beside him shifted and grumbled in its sleep, rubbing lightly against his crotch. He groaned lightly, opening his eyes slightly. _

_He was in a room with white walls that had long since colored yellow by sunlight. The bed beneath him was covered in a small mattress that was hardly big enough for two full-grown men, but they'd made it work He was facing one such wall, although he could barely see it through the dark hair, flat and smooth, that filled his sight, following the curve of the other man's skull. Sitting up slightly, he looked down at the smaller man who was still deeply asleep. He was on his side, one hand buried underneath the pillow. Underneath the worn cotton blanket, the other man was naked and streaked with sweat from the night before._

_Sighing, he reached out and ran his fingers lightly through the dark hair. The other man stirred again, his legs shifting closer together._

_Behind him, he heard a door open and he glanced over his shoulder. A small girl, probably three years old or so, clutched the door, peaking around it into the faintly lit room. Her hair was a deep brunet with a tinge of red and wild, curling and waving over her thin shoulders. Bright blue eyes stared at him, slightly clouded with fear. She was dressed in a black nightgown, her feet adorned with slippers shaped like little rabbits._

"_Da?"_

Daryl awoke with a start, jerking out of his dream. Snarling quietly, he sat up on his elbow, glancing around the room. Faint sunlight filtered in through the dark sheets that blanketed the room's single window. Glenn lay beside him, curled up tightly against Daryl's chest. Sometime during the night, he'd flipped over to face the older man, his forehead resting on Daryl's collarbone.

"Daryl?"

He glanced down at Glenn, who was awake. The dark eyes stared up at him, hesitant. Snorting, Daryl sat up completely, bracing his back against the wall. He beckoned the smaller man to him, resting Glenn's head in his lap.

They sat in silence for a while, Glenn's eyes drooping as sleepiness began to overtake him again. Daryl was lost in thought, trying to plan out his next move. While he didn't care what the rest of the group thought of him and Glenn being together, he did care if it made them act differently. He'd grown up with some of the most prejudiced people probably in the world, men who'd hated everyone and everything that wasn't white, Southern, or from the wild woods they hunted in. It wouldn't surprise him much if some of their group were just as bad.

Shane was the one he was the most worried about. The ex-cop had been getting more and more angry. His temper was a moment away from exploding and probably hurting –or killing- them all, except Lori and Carl of course. Daryl snarled quietly at the thought of Shane. If push came to shove, he wasn't afraid to lop the man's head off with an axe or shoot him with an arrow to the temple.

His grip tightened in Glenn's hair, drawing the smaller man's attention.

"You okay?" the other man asked, brown eyes turning to look at up Daryl.

"Thinking," Daryl replied gruffly.

"You can do that?" Glenn asked in fake shock. "I didn't know you had another mode to you. I thought it was just hunt, eat, fight, sleep, and fuck."

Rolling his eyes, Daryl slapped the other man lightly on the back.

"Shut up. I'm thinking about how to deal with Shane."

"Shane?"

Glenn sat up, leaning on one hand to face Daryl.

"Yeah," Daryl replied. "That motherless bastard is a time bomb and we all know it. Someday, and I think it'll be sooner than any of us expect, he's going to do something and get us all hurt."

Scooting up to sit beside Daryl, Glenn grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly. Daryl squeezed back, trying to ignore the nice feeling it gave him.

"He definitely is trigger happy, but then again, so are you," Glenn mused.

"But I'm not nearly as jumpy as he is. I swear he's getting more and more paranoid by the day. When I was walkin' to your room that night at the CDC, I saw him and Lori fighting. They were fuckin' before Rick Cop Hero Grimes came back," Daryl snarled.

"You really think so?" Glenn asked.

Daryl nodded. "No doubt. I think Walsh liked her way before the world turned to shit, but was never able to do nothin' 'bout it 'cause she was married to his best friend. With Rick out the way, I'm sure he was thrilled and pounced at the first chance he got."

Thinking back, it made sense to Glenn. Shane had seemed to relish in Lori following him around like a lost puppy the first few weeks after Atlanta fell. When he'd met the two, he honestly thought they'd been a married couple until Carl told them all about his dad and how he was in a coma.

"Do you really think Shane will do something drastic?" Glenn asked.

Turning his sharp, blue gaze to the smaller man, Daryl nodded. "He attacked you and Rick back at the motel, remember? He's the one that was screamin' and shoutin', drawin' the walkers to us."

He sneered at the memory.

"Fuckin' bastard."

Sighing, Glenn shook his head. "That was just pent up tension, Daryl. We were all scared, that we didn't have anywhere to go, that Lori was pregnant and that I was sick. He just snapped."

"Exactly," Daryl replied. "He snapped, but far too easily. Did you see anyone else as angry about your sickness as Shane was? No! Just Shane."

Glenn nodded in agreement, throwing his free arm protectively over his lower stomach. He glanced up at Daryl, whose gaze had been attracted down to his waist.

"Are you ready to maybe face a firing squad?" the smaller man asked.

Daryl snorted and squeezed Glenn's hand one more time before slipping out of bed, padding over to the pile of clothes that he'd discarded the night before. Grabbing his pants and boxers, he threw them on, quickly zipping up the jeans. Turning back to Glenn, he held out the cotton sleeping pants and button-up shirt to the younger man. Glenn took them with a nod of thanks, carefully sliding his right arm into the correct sleeve so as not to aggravate his injured shoulder.

As he swung his bare legs over the edge of the bed and carefully slid on his boxers, Glenn motioned to the small dresser in the far corner that Daryl hadn't noticed before.

"Can you get my jeans for me? Emrys put them in the top drawer," he asked.

Daryl nodded and motioned for Glenn to stay put. Yanking out the large drawer, he retrieved the jeans, tossing them to the other man. Glenn slipped each leg into the jeans, pulling them up to his lower thighs, the highest he could get them without standing. Slowly, he began to stand.

Rushing over, Daryl grabbed his good shoulder and steadied his lover who was wobbling. He watched Glenn carefully, searching his face for the slightest hint of discomfort. Glenn shot him a grin and waved him away.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. No nausea or anything. Not even any pain," he laughed easily.

"How's the shoulder?" Daryl asked.

"It should be mostly healed by today. Walker bites heal fast for us apparently," Glenn explained as he finished buttoning up his shirt. "Logan said he'd take a look at it this afternoon."

Daryl nodded and led Glenn to the door, opening it for him. The smaller man slipped out, making his way to the stairs with Daryl not far behind. Pausing at the top of the stairs, Glenn glanced back at the taller man, a questioning look in his eyes.

Behind them a door opened and Emrys stepped out. He shot them a smile, a hand wrapped under the curve of his swollen abdomen.

"Have you met everyone yet?" Glenn asked quietly.

Emrys shook his head, shooting the other man a grin. "I didn't think it would good to shock them with this until you had a chance to explain yourself first. You're the one who knows them anyway. I've just been hiding in my room since everyone else got up."

"Late night again?" Glenn murmured.

Chuckling softly, Emrys rolled his blue eyes. "For some reason, my kid likes the beat the shit out of me at night. I dunno why."

"He's taking after you, that's why," Avi sighed as he walked down the steps from the floor above. "Morning Glenn, Daryl."

"Is everyone downstairs yet?" Glenn asked.

Avi nodded and stepped over to Emrys, wrapping a large arm around the other man's waist. "They've been up since sunrise except Carl that is. I guess sleeping in a real bed sure made him realize how worn out he was."

"He was shot not too long ago," Glenn sighed. "It is to be expected. His body is probably still recovering."

"As is yours. How is the bite?" Emrys quickly and quietly said.

"Healing," Glenn replied.

Beside him, Daryl clenched his teeth at the thought of some walker biting the smaller man. Emrys noticed this and shot Glenn a grin.

"Time to explain what happened to them, isn't it?" he asked.

Daryl and Glenn nodded somewhat sadly.

"I don't know how they'll take it," Glenn said.

"Well, they'll have to live with it. It's reality now. If they don't want to… well, you two will have me, Avi, and the others backing you up," Emrys snarled, bright eyes flashing.

Daryl gave him a single nod of thanks before turning and ushering Glenn down the steps. He watched carefully as his lover descended into the living room, his eyes looking up only when he saw the movement in the room still and the noise quiet to silence.

Their group all stood or sat around the low table in the center of the room. Lori and Carol were beside each other on one of the couches, Carl at their feet. Shane was in the far corner, looking angry. Daryl noticed that his usual handgun had been removed from its place on his belt. T-Dog and Andrea, who had been talking quietly behind Lori, had stopped, both staring at the two men with quizzical stares. Dale shot them a grin and a knowing look while Rick just seemed shocked and dumbfounded.

Snarling quietly, Daryl grabbed Glenn's arm, dragging him towards the couches and forcing him down on one. He took up a defensive, protective position over the smaller man's right shoulder, glaring straight at Shane. The former cop gave him a sharp, fierce glare in return.

Glenn shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clutching awkwardly at his jeans. He hated their stares, how they scrutinized his every move. He knew they'd noticed the faint limp in his step, a souvenir from the night before.

"So," Lori said slowly, unsure quite where to start, "You and Daryl… you're together?"

Blushing, Glenn nodded. Behind him, Daryl was completely stoic, not giving anything away. On the far side of the room, Shane growled.

"And you guys were going to tell us this when exactly?" he snarled.

"Why the fuck does it matter?" Daryl asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Maybe because I'd like to know that there are-"

"Shane! Just be quiet," Lori snapped.

Glenn shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing over at Rick. The older man was still wide-eyed with surprise, arms hanging him at his side. His eyes flicked from Glenn to Daryl, seemingly unable to comprehend what had been revealed to him in the past night. Glenn felt a bit sorry for the man. If he was unable to process what was happening now, Glenn didn't know what would happen when he told them the real news.

"Look, you're both good guys and all," Shane said, "But it would have been nice knowing that you two are… well…"

"Homos? Fags? Pansies? Cocksuckers?" Daryl supplied, snarling at the other man.

Glenn flinched slightly with each word, trying as hard as he could to ignore the memories that arose with each one. Daryl noticed and gripped Glenn's good shoulder lightly, comforting him without taking his eyes off Shane.

"I have to say that it was a surprise," Andrea said.

"Never thought that Daryl would get with someone who wasn't white, let alone a man," T-Dog added.

If he hadn't been so nervous, Glenn would have laughed. He'd been surprised himself the morning after the first time, the morning of their second time. When Daryl had agreed to continue their… relationship, he'd been so shocked that he didn't even speak, just moaning as Daryl had taken him again, riding him hard.

"Crazier things have happened," Dale said, smiling a little.

Andrea glanced over at him, smirking. "You knew, didn't you?"

Dale shrugged casually. "If the rest of you hadn't been so drunk out of your minds at the CDC, you would have known then too."

Clearing his throat, Glenn brought everyone's attention back to him. "There's more that we need to tell you."

"What's next? Are you gonna tell us that you're both really women dressed as men?" Shane cackled.

"N-no," Glenn replied, his voice cracking.

"What, are you serious? Was I right?" Shane asked.

"No, he's not a fucking woman, Walsh," Avi snarled.

"Oh, so you know about this too, huh?" Shane chuckled, storming over to the hulking man. "Or are you just like them and fucking Glenn, too?"

"Avi isn't fucking Glenn. That's for Daryl to do," Emrys replied, his voice sharp and harsh as he came down the steps, taking them one at a time to be safe.

Everyone turned to look up at him. He was dressed in the same baggy jeans as before, rolled up to reveal the missing three toes, and a white long sleeved t-shirt that probably belonged to Avi. No matter how big it was though, it couldn't hide the heavy, protruding abdomen. When he reached the bottom of the steps, he turned to them, blue eyes bright.

"Who the fuck-"

"I'm Emrys and you owe me a huge debt, _cil_, so back the fuck off and shut up," Emrys snarled, crossing his arms over his chest. (1)

"You're Emrys, this holier-than-though-ass-kickin'-motherfucker we've heard so much about?" Shane asked, motioning to the blond man.

"Is there a problem?" Emrys asked, gnashing his teeth together in anger.

"Look at you! You look like you're fuckin' pregnant!"

"That's because I am, asshole."

That shut Shane up. Emrys glared at the ex-cop as he stepped over to Avi, the larger man settling an arm over his shoulders. Shane's eyes flicked down to Emrys's swollen stomach and back up again, shuddering slightly.

"What the fuck," he murmured. "That ain't possible."

"It is and you're either going to live with it or leave," Emrys said.

"Woah, Woah," Rick said, finally intervening. "Isn't that taking it a little too far?"

"No, it's not," Emrys replied.

"Live with it? What the fuck does that mean?" Shane asked.

Glenn shook his head and glanced back at Daryl with a pleading look. The older man motioned towards Shane, raising his eyebrows a little.

"What it means, Shane, is that you need to either get over your homophobia or at least try to contain it or you will be forced to go back outside," Glenn said.

Shane started laughing wildly, practically cackling. "Really? You'd send me out into that walker infested world alone just because I don't like homos?"

"Yes," Emrys, Avi, and Daryl all answered at the same time.

Snorting, Shane glanced over at the four other newcomers, Logan, Lance, Anna, and Tasha. They all stared at him with steely eyes, arms crossed over their chests or hanging taut at their sides, hands grasping whatever weapon they had hanging from their belts. The wild grin dropped from Shane's face and he looked back to Emrys.

"You've really got everyone here until your control, don't you? What the fuck is so special about you, huh?" Shane asked as he walked up to Emrys, getting close enough so that he was practically in the younger man's face, but not touching him.

"You want to know what is really special about me?" Emrys asked, snorting quietly. "Alright, I'll tell you or perhaps I should show you?"

Shane backed up a little, sneering. He threw his arms out to his sides, spreading them wide.

"Show us then, oh great one!" he cried.

"Shane, I don't think-"

"Grimes," Daryl snapped, "This's important. You'll want to fuckin' know 'bout this."

Rick frowned heavily as he turned to look back at Emrys. He turned part way around, lifting the right sleeve of his shirt to reveal the old walker bite. Lori and Carol both let out a cry, jumping back in their chairs as Shane, Rick and Andrea reached for the spot where their guns usually hung from their belts.

"Wait," Dale said slowly, holding up a hand. He stepped over to Emrys, gently tracing the pale skin. "Oh my god. It's healed, only scars now. It's not even scabbed anymore."

Shane drew back, stumbling slightly in shock. "Y-You survived a walker bite?"

Smirking, Emrys held up his arm higher, motioning to Shane. "Want to feel, to prove that your old man Dale here isn't wrong?"

Dale glanced at Shane, nodding. "It's completely healed."

"W-What does it mean?" Andrea asked.

"It means he's fuckin' immune, that's what," Daryl said.

"And Glenn is too," Emrys added.

Everyone turned to look at Glenn, who ducked his head under the scrutiny. Daryl squeezed his shoulder lightly, but didn't say anything further.

"I'm the same as him," Glenn said slowly, pointing to Emrys. "We're Galahads."

"Galahads? What the fuck-"

"It's from Arthurian legend. Sir Galahad, the 'Perfect Knight' of King Arthur's Round Table and represents everything that Western society had claimed to be the perfect man since the Dark Ages," Dale explained. "He's also one of three men in mythology to have found the Holy Grail."

"You know your literature," Emrys said, a hint of respect in his voice.

"I had a lot of time to read before the walkers," Dale admitted.

"So wait, let me get this straight," Shane said, interrupting. "You're saying that Glenn here is also immune to the walker virus whatever the hell it is?"

"He's immune to the bites, the same as me," Emrys explained.

"The only way you'd know that is if he was bit," Andrea said.

Glenn pulled back the shoulder of his shirt, exposing the healing bite. The others recoiled, practically hissing at him. Daryl straightened and nearly bared his teeth like a dog in a defense manner. As Glenn let go of the collar of his shirt, he dropped his hands into his lap again, twitching nervously.

"It also means that I can… do what Emrys does," he added slowly.

The color drained from Dale's face as he put together what Glenn and Emrys were trying to say.

"We were at the CDC over a month ago. You started getting sick last week. You're pregnant, aren't you?"

Dropping his gaze to his lap, Glenn nodded.

"Yeah. I am."

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**(1): _Cil _in Welsh slang I am told means dog, referencing a man who chases women a lot. Then again, I could be wrong but I felt the need to throw in a Welsh term since Emrys is, after all, Welsh. He moved from his home country to live in the States with Avi remember? Oh, and I don't know if I mentioned this or not, but Emrys, Avi, and everyone else in the Compound Survivors group are OCs.**

**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Review anyway.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Wow, Chapter 10 already and I have more reviews for this story than followers. That impresses me, I must say. Well anyway, I hope everyone enjoys the next installment in Glenn and Daryl's... interesting? adventure into parenthood in a zombie apocalypse. REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 10

As they sat around the low table eating an early lunch of canned green beans, instant rice, and mushrooms, Glenn knew that most of the group didn't really know what to say to him, let alone think about his situation. He sat between Dale and Carol, the two that had reacted the best to his news, with Daryl perched behind him on the back of the couch frame. Lori, Rick, T-Dog, and Andrea were all focused on their food, shooting sideways glances at Glenn and Daryl between bites. Sophia and Carol were on the floor, flipping through a book on old cartoons from the 1950's and 1960's that Avi had found for them. Neither of them had seemed to take Glenn's news badly, having said nothing to him at all.

Shane, however, was an entirely different story. He sat as far away from Glenn and Daryl as possible, glaring into his food. Shoveling green beans into his mouth as quickly as he could, he chewed with a heavy, clicking jaw, the soft sound obvious in the silence. Glenn nearly jumped every time the ex-cop stabbed his fork down on the plate to stab another slice of the long vegetables.

Avi and Emrys were sitting on two low barstools that had been retrieved from the basement, leaning as close to one another as possible. Emrys had part of the plate balanced on his protruding stomach and occasionally, he stop eating to rub it. Each time he did, Avi would glance over at him with a slight twinge of worry, a look that Emrys quickly waved off.

Logan, Lance, and Tasha stood around the island at the center of the kitchen, weapons still strapped to their waists. None of them took their eyes off Shane, watching him warily as though he were a beast about to spring and rip them all apart. Glenn couldn't blame them really. As soon as Glenn had explained his pregnancy, the older man had stormed off, escaping into the back garden with Lance quickly following behind. From what Glenn had heard, Shane had done his fair share of blowing off stream.

Finishing his food, Glenn stood and padded into the kitchen, trying to ignore the eyes that followed him. He grabbed a rag from a large bucket of water that sat on the counter, scrubbing at the few food marks that had been left on the plate. When it was clean to his standard, he dried the plate and set it in the bag that usually held their utensils.

Everyone stared at him as he silently passed them all and made his way to the stairs. He stepped up onto the first one and cast a quick glance at the rest of the group before he jogged up to the second floor, unnerved by the sheer silence.

Heading to his room, he closed the door behind him and flopped down on the bed with a sigh. Covering his face with his hands, he let out a slow, steady breath, trying to calm his wildly beating heart. He'd known that not everyone was going to be receptive to the news of his pregnancy. Before he'd met Emrys, he'd never heard of such a thing before, a male pregnancy. He himself had only had a day to process that when Emrys had checked him and revealed that Glenn was carrying as well.

He dropped one hand to his stomach, pulling up the hem of his shirt. His palm slid over the skin, stopping just below his pectoral muscles before working his way back down again. He heard the door quietly open, but he ignored it as he brought his hand back up the length of his torso again, sighing.

"Wha' cha thinkin'?" Daryl asked.

"About how we're going to survive the next nine months," Glenn groaned, dropping his hand away from his eyes.

He glanced over at Daryl, who stood beside the door. He looked somewhat uncomfortable, arms crossed over his chest, but his fingers twitched slightly where they rested on his biceps. His mouth was set in a firm line, the only indication from his expression that he was at all concerned.

"We'll just have ta live through it, won't we?" Daryl muttered, dropping his arms to his sides as he came over to the bed, sitting beside Glenn.

"This is just so fucked up," Glenn sighed. "The world comes to an end and I'm going to have your kid. You: Mr. Redneck of the Year, or is that your brother's title?"

Daryl snorted at the teasing question and leaned back on his elbows, his head hovering over Glenn's thighs.

"It doesn't matter that everythin' is fucked up 'cause it would be if yah were pregnant or not. The fuckin' apocalypse still happened, didn't it?" Daryl said.

"Yeah, but now the shit just got compounded," Glenn replied.

Glancing over at him, Daryl snorted quietly. "Walsh sure didn't help with that."

Glenn groaned loudly, covering his eyes with one arm. "I knew he was going to throw a fit, but I didn't think it was going to be that bad."

"He's a fuckin' bastard and we all know it, just no one else wants to say it," Daryl snarled.

As much as he didn't like admitting it, Glenn had to agree. Even before Rick had returned, Shane had always been high-strung and jumpy. Glenn's first memory of Shane was of him arguing with Lori on the side of the road, practically screaming at her about how he was trying to protect her and that she should be grateful for it. When Glenn had intervened, asking if there was a problem. Shane had started wailing on him not a moment later, almost sticking a gun in his face until the combined powers of Glenn, Lori, and Dale (who had heard the arguing and come running) managed to calm him down.

Somehow they'd all ended up in the same camp, though that was probably due to Dale's interference more than anything. Everyone had been stuck on the highway and Glenn's own car had broken down long before that. Dale's RV however, had somehow been running strong (or at least it had been at the time). He was the one who found the quarry and suggested it as a potential campsite. Glenn had agreed to go along with him to the quarry, hitching a ride in Dale's RV. Shane had been reluctant, refusing Dale's help, but less than a day later, not long after the Morales family had shown up, so had Shane with Lori and Carl in tow.

"You're right. Shane is a bastard," Glenn sighed. "But he's still part of the group and we can't just throw him out because he doesn't like who we are. That world, the judgmental one is gone. He won't survive out there alone, even if he is skilled with a gun."

"Just 'cause the world ended doesn't mean he's not gonna stop judgin' us. He made that clear already," Daryl reminded him.

"We have Emrys and the others to back us up. He won't try anything when we have the numbers on our side," Glenn replied.

"Hasn't stopped him before. He attacked yah and then Rick even when T-Dog and I were there," Daryl snarled.

Sighing, Glenn sat up and glanced over at Daryl. "We'll let Emrys decide. This is his place, his group runs it."

Daryl snorted, but reluctantly nodded. "Alright, we'll let blondie handle it, but Walsh steps one toe out of line, I get to shoot the damn son of a bitch in the head."

"Agreed," Emrys said before he silently walking off, his shadow disappearing from under the door.

Smirking, Daryl stepped over to the bed and reached out for Glenn. Taking his hand, the Asian man pulled himself up with a soft groan, his dizziness and nausea suddenly returning. Daryl grabbed his shoulder to steady him, wrapping his other arm around the smaller man's waist.

"Yah okay?"

Glenn nodded, reaching up to rub his forehead.

"It just comes back whenever I get stressed. Emrys said it should go away in a couple of months, said it has something to do with my body adjusting itself to something it wasn't originally built to do, even with the virus."

"He would know, wouldn't he?"

Glenn laughed quietly, resting his forehead against Daryl's shoulder as he regained his balance and composure. When his stomach had settled, he straightened up and Daryl removed his arm from Glenn's waist. There was a knock at the door and both of them looked up. Avi opened the door and stepped into the room, smiling a little at them.

"Emrys has called a meeting if you two are ready. He wants to organize patrols and a night watch," the bigger man said.

"Got it," Daryl replied, pushing past Avi into the hall.

Frowning, Avi glanced over at Glenn, who just shrugged.

"He's not really the touchy-feely type," Glenn explained as he followed the larger man out of the room.

He closed the door behind him, following as Avi headed for the stairs, turning to climb up to the floors above. Daryl's boots slammed quietly against the floorboards above, silencing as he stopped.

"Emrys isn't touchy-feely," Avi whispered. "Your guy is just shy."

Glenn smirked at the thought as they exited the stairs, stepping into the fourth floor hallway. They passed a few closed doors, bedrooms that went largely unused. At the end of the hall was the only open door, leading to a large rectangular room at the front of the house. The walls were decorated a cool gray color and shelves lined the two sidewalls, which had been cleared of the books they had once houses. The books were stacked near the door along with a few worn, but thick blankets. Furniture had been pushed up against the bookcases except for a single armchair that sat at the center of the windows that lined the far wall. One of the windows was open, swinging outwards from below to be completely horizontal to the ground.

Everyone was assembled in the room with the brunette young woman –Anna- Glenn reminded himself, nearest to the window. A shotgun rested on Anna's thin, but muscled shoulder and her strong arms hung loosely at her sides. Her right hand rested casually on the handle of a large buck knife tucked into her belt. Her slightly curly hair was tied back in a tight ponytail against her head, giving her a serious look. One of her black combat boots tapped in annoyance against the wooden floorboards.

Emrys stood beside her with Lance and Tasha. Lance's green eyes were clear and felt a slight twinge of mischievousness as he stared casually at Shane, who twitched under his gaze. His brown hair was also pulled back tightly against his head just as Anna's was, but shorter, the straight tresses falling barely halfway down his neck.

Tasha was not nearly as relaxed as Lance, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot as silence continued to fill the room. Blue eyes flitted from Carol to Lori to Andrea, inspecting the three women with care. The black hair that was cropped short was wild and untamed, filled with dirt.

Logan was standing beside Dale on the opposite side of the room, a thick book on natural medicinal techniques in his hand. The others were scattered around them, Daryl standing beside the door, looking around the room with a defensive, wary stare.

"Alright, now that we're all here, we should divide up the chores again," Emrys said, drawing everyone's attention to him.

"Hold on, we never said we were staying," Shane interrupted.

"Shane, let's not go through this again. We're staying. We've got people who are sick and injured among other things. Moving on is practically a death sentence," Rick sighed, shaking his head.

"Hey, I'm all for-"

"Did you hear 'im, jackass? We're fuckin' stayin'," Daryl snarled, practically baring his teeth at the other man.

Shane pressed his lips together tightly, crossing his arms as he sulked and grumbled silently. Rick turned back to Emrys and nodded for him to continue.

"First of all: patrols and night watch," Emrys said. "As it stands, Tasha watches the front gate in the morning, from sunrise to noon with Anna walking the walls at the side and back. I have the front in the afternoon until sundown while Avi is on the wall. At night, Logan and Lance are on watch, Logan here in the front and Lance in the back."

"And you want us to help with the patrols?" T-Dog asked.

"If you're going to stay, you're going to have to take part in the chores," Logan explained.

"We can do that," Rick quickly replied.

"Any of you got any special skills? We aren't asking much since most of the actual trained forces are long dead, but it never hurts to know," Avi asked.

"Shane and I were sheriffs deputies before everything went down. T-Dog is pretty good with close-range fighting, crowbars and such. Daryl was our hunter when we were out there. This crossbow is the quietest ranged weapon we have and it doesn't require any ammo," Rick said.

"And you three?" Anna asked, motioning to Lori, Andrea, and Carol.

"Carol and I usually take care of the camp," Lori spoke up. "Andrea's a pretty good shot though."

"Nearly took my head off a few weeks ago," Daryl snarled quietly.

Andrea's face fell as she remembered the incident, blushing slightly with shame. Emrys noticed and turned to her.

"How close were you?" he asked.

"She just nicked his temple," Dale said. "I'd say that pretty damn close."

Nodding, Emrys set his hands on his wide hips, staring down at the floor in thought. Avi and the others of his group turned to him, patiently waiting for his response.

"Okay. T-Dog will join Anna on the walls in the mornings and Rick will join Avi in the afternoon. Since Daryl has the quietest weapon and we don't want to attract any more than possible at night, he'll join Lance walking around the perimeter," Emrys said slowly, as though he was still thinking through his plan. "We usually don't have anyone to tend to the garden out back or to do anything else around here because we're either trying to get sleep or guarding the place."

"Lori and I can definitely do that," Carol murmured shyly.

Emrys nodded to them, smiling a little. "Good."

"What about me?" Shane snarled.

"Soon enough, I won't be able to keep watch for long. I have at a maximum three months and I doubt it'll be that long," Emrys sighed, rubbing his swollen stomach. "You and Glenn will be sharing my watch when can't."

"Great. Just what I need," Shane muttered under his breath.

Emrys ignored him and continued. "The other jobs, like chopping firewood and all of that is to be divided among those that aren't on patrol. You probably noticed the town when you came here. We sometimes make runs down there, usually if we need something specific. Usually Anna and Lance usually handle those, but if anyone else is willing to go, it'll be nice to have some extra hands. There aren't many walkers from around here since the town was so small to begin with. Most are just passing through."

"I can. It was my job when we were in Atlanta," Glenn said.

Logan shook his head. "You shouldn't be doing anything stressful."

"What, like keeping watch?" Glenn snorted. "Look, it's not like I'm going to try and get myself into trouble. Besides, if I get bit, I won't die like everyone else will."

Logan opened his mouth to say something, but Emrys quickly cut him off.

"He's right, Logan. If he sticks close to the others, I don't think it would be much of a problem."

The older man turned to Emrys, his mouth set in a grim line. He looked conflicted, unsure whether to exert his position as a physician or follow what Emrys was saying. Avi stepped over to the older man, patting him on the shoulder as he stood between Logan and Emrys.

"I know you're worried Logan, but think about it. Emrys made it out of Atlanta when he was three months. That's two months further than Glenn is and there weren't any problems. You checked Emrys after that yourself," Avi said.

"Yes, but that was an unavoidable situation!" Logan cried. "It was either get out of Atlanta or get eaten alive. Not even a Galahad is immune to being eaten! What Glenn is proposing-"

"It is something I can handle, Logan! I've done it before," Glenn shouted.

Logan tried to protest again, looking over at Anna and the others for help. They all shook their heads at him, silently siding with Glenn. With a sigh, he threw up his hands in defeat.

"Fine, I relent! I ask only one thing: when Glenn is four and a half months, I ask that he stops on supply runs, whether we're still here or not."

Shane muttered something under his breath, but no one paid attention.

As everyone broke to go about their jobs, Glenn stepped over to Daryl. They exchanged a look, a silent agreement. Daryl's dislike for Glenn's idea was well hidden under the cool, emotionless look that he usually wore, but the smaller man would see it vaguely flashing in his blue eyes. He gave the older man a slight smile and Daryl nodded to him. He understood: survival and how they were going to achieve it was the most important thing if they were ever going to see their baby be born.

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**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Review anyway.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I'm posting this quickly between classes so I'm sorry that I don't have much to say today. JUST REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 11

The next month and a half passed in relative ease. Walkers were few and far between, making the patrols pretty simple and uneventful. Less than ten shots had been fired since Rick and the others had come to the Compound. November was upon them and the last of the vegetables and herbs from the garden had been harvested, leaving behind dying plants that needed to be cut back and ground that needed to be prepared for the following spring.

Emrys had entered his seventh month and Logan had largely restricted his movement. He barely was allowed to go downstairs for meals anymore for fear he would fall down the narrow, steep staircase. The old doctor had even limited his hours on guard duty further than originally thought: no more than two hours at a time, even with the lack of walkers. He spent the majority of his time keeping track of the stores and planning for possible catastrophes in the future.

Glenn, meanwhile, was falling into a simple routine. Every morning, he would wake up at sunrise to help Emrys with whatever plan he was in the process of creating or implementing. After lunch, when Emrys would take up his post upstairs, Glenn would help Lori and Carol out back in the garden, something that he knew Shane was snickering about. When Shane's shift upstairs ended, he would take over, sitting in the armchair with a shotgun across his lap and his eyes scanning the edge of the woods beyond the high walls of the Compound.

Sometimes, Daryl kept him company during these times, not talking, but just sitting beside him. Just before sundown, Glenn and Daryl would go down for dinner before the older man left to patrol the back walls with Lance. Following dinner, Glenn would help clean up before heading to bed. Usually, he lay awake for a while, listening to the silence that filled the Compound. He'd eventually fall asleep, but he would always awaken when Daryl slid into bed beside him just before sunrise.

The two men had barely discussed their relationship going forward. They'd had sex a couple times in the small window of time between when Daryl would go to bed and Glenn would get out of it. Most of the time, though, they simply lay in the silence and waited for Daryl to relax enough to fall asleep.

Everyone in the group had avoided discussing their relationship as well, mostly to keep Shane from going off on all of them. Emrys, Avi, Dale, and surprisingly, Andrea had asked Glenn a few times about it when they were in private, mostly concerned about how closed off both Glenn and Daryl seemed with each other.

Glenn tried to reassure them that he would talk to Daryl about it, but he tried to put it off as long as possible. He was scared to bringing it up with the older man, terrified really. Daryl had never been very open with any of them, even before they'd left Merle on that roof in Atlanta. When he wasn't angry and yelling at them, he was sneering at their attempts to survive in the wild or stoically, silently critiquing every action they did. Daryl was far from the epitome of open.

Toward the end of November, Emrys decided that enough was enough. After a quick, but fruitful discussion with Andrea and Dale, they agreed to help him.

Slipping into Glenn and Daryl's room early one morning, Emrys stepped over to a still-sleeping Glenn, gently shaking him awake. The younger man jerked up, raising his fist as though to attack. Emrys backed up and step and held up his hands.

"It's just me, Glenn," he said quietly.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Glenn dropped back onto the bed and groaned, "Don't scare me like that, Emrys. Hell, I could have hit you."

"I've had worse," Emrys chuckled before he quickly sobered. "Have you talked to Daryl yet?"

"No. Talking to Daryl about anything is difficult. How would this be any different?" Glenn sighed.

"It needs to be done. You can't just wait until your in the middle of labor to talk to him about your relationship," Emrys said.

"I've been sleeping with him for only two months, Emrys, and I'm pregnant. It's not just a surprise; this is a shock! Neither of us knew that such a thing was possible so don't berate me if we aren't exactly in the best of places," Glenn growled.

Placing a hand under his swollen belly, Emrys eased himself down onto the bed, sitting beside Glenn. He turned to the younger man, fixing him with a bright blue gaze.

"You have no choice, Glenn. This baby is coming whether you two have talked or not, but you both need to be ready. He can't just leave you to deal with it on your own. Pregnancy is a trying experience for anyone, let alone a man. If I didn't have Avi with me, I probably would be a complete mess right now," Emrys explained.

"Yeah, but you and Avi have been together for years," Glenn argued.

"That doesn't matter. Even if your relationship with Daryl completely goes downhill, he still owes you something for helping to put you in this position. It does take two to do something like this, but Daryl bears some responsibility," Emrys replied.

"Yah think I don't know that, blondie?" Daryl snarled as he entered the room, crossbow over one shoulder

Emrys fixed him with a serious stare, the blue gazes of the two men meeting.

"It's not that I don't think you're unaware of it, but I do think you two need to discuss it. You need to open up, Daryl; you too, Glenn. This is not the time to act manly and unemotional," the blond said.

"Don't talk like yah know me," Daryl snapped.

"I've lived with you for the past month during an apocalypse. If that doesn't teach you something about the people you're living with, I don't know what will," Emrys replied.

"See, Emrys? We're just not ready to talk about it," Glenn murmured, motioning to Daryl. "We need time."

Emrys rounded on him, frowning heavily. "You don't have time."

Glenn glanced over at Daryl who was silently seething and fixed him with a glare that could silence even Shane. With a sigh, Glenn nodded to Emrys and shooed him away. The blond stood and pushed past Daryl, raising one blond eyebrow at the man before he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Slowly standing, Glenn watched as Daryl took the crossbow from his shoulder and carefully set it on the stool beside the bed. The older man fixed Glenn with a small glare, turning to him with arms crossed over his chest. He was pissed, heavy lines forming around his mouth as he silently seethed and snarled like a territorial animal.

"Well? Talk," he commanded harshly.

Glenn flinched at the tone, clearing his throat as he tried to collect himself. He shuffled uncomfortably under the cold gaze of his lover.

"W-What do you think?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly.

"Of what?"

"Me having a baby. I never really asked you how you felt about it."

Daryl snorted and looked away for a moment before turning his gaze back to Glenn. "I don't need to think 'bout it. Yahr havin' a baby and that's that."

Glenn's heart dropped into his stomach. "You surely must have some thoughts on it."

"Well, I don't."

"Alright. I know you're part of the group and all, but I have to ask. Do you really want to have anything to do with the child after it's born?"

At that, Daryl frowned and his arms dropped to his sides. He stepped over to Glenn, the couple inches in height difference making all the difference. Daryl's eyes were cool and slightly angry as Glenn met his gaze, his heart pounding in his chest.

"'Course I do. I'm not that much of an asshole."

Glenn was about to reply when Daryl cut him off.

"Just don't expect me to act like a carin' mama or anythin'. I'm still a man."

"And I'm not?" Glenn snarled.

"I know yah are, but yah're still pregnant, aren't yah?" Daryl asked before he grabbed his crossbow and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Glenn was seething, although he really shouldn't have expected anything less from the other man. Daryl was one of those men who felt they needed to validate their masculinity at all times and in everything they did. Anything else was considered weak or girly.

His reaction though left Glenn a little confused. Since the night he'd told Daryl, the older man had been exceedingly careful with him, even if it was done in a way to make sure Glenn didn't notice. If Glenn had been anyone else, he probably wouldn't have. During the afternoons before Daryl took over guard duty, he would watch Glenn whenever he was within sight. He would stick close behind the smaller man when going down the stairs, almost as though he was making sure that Glenn didn't trip or slip. Every night, he would make sure that Glenn ate enough, inspecting the smaller man's plate over his shoulder.

With a quiet sigh, he shook his head and left the room. He found Dale standing outside his door, a worried look on his face. Glenn shot him a small smile.

"That didn't go too well, did it?" Glenn laughed, his voice full of mirth.

"I'd say not," Dale agreed.

"I just don't understand him sometimes," Glenn sighed. "One day he's watching to make sure I don't get hurt and the next, he's as cold as fucking ice."

"That's Daryl for you. I was hoping he was changing after he lost you back at the motel, but it seems I was wrong," Dale said.

"Changing?" Glenn asked.

"Yes. He went charging after you when he realized that you weren't in the vehicles with us. I think that was the most panicked I've ever seen him, even more than when Jenner locked all of the doors at the CDC," Dale explained.

"Really?" Glenn asked in shock.

The older man nodded, glancing in the direction of the stairs. "I think he was ready to shoot down every walker in the area if he could have."

"He's never shown concern like that to me," Glenn snorted.

"Of course not," Dale chuckled. "He's a man's man, I guess we could call him. His masculinity should never he questioned, not for a minute."

The white-haired man turned back to look at Glenn, smiling. "To be honest, I wasn't shocked by his reaction to your talk."

"Neither was I. I know how much he hates talking about those sorts of things," Glenn said.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much though. I have a feeling that he'll come around soon enough," Dale replied. "He just needs more time."

"I told Emrys that we just weren't ready to discuss it, but he had to go and initiate it anyway," Glenn sighed.

"Honestly, I think you'll owe Emrys a favor sooner than later. You two got Daryl thinking about stuff that he didn't want to think about. He can't push it away for long. Before he knows it, he's going to have a son or daughter that he'll need to help take care of."

Glenn shrugged. "We'll see. Don't be surprised if Daryl does the opposite of that."

Dale smiled. "No, I think I've got Daryl pegged more than either of you know."

A week had passed since Glenn's attempt at talking to Daryl about their relationship.

The weather had gotten colder as November had passed and December approached. Glenn was dressed in thick jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and a heavy jacket as he sat in the living room, tallying the cans of sliced, preserved carrots that they'd found in the basement of the Compound.

Glenn thought about his older lover with a sigh as he mechanically counted the cans. The older man was ignoring him in almost every way, never speaking to him although they still slept in the same bed. While this was nothing new, Glenn noticed the heavy, daunting aura that it gave the rest of the group. It made them nervous, unsure if Daryl was going to explode in anger.

Shane wasn't of much help either, always shooting snide comments at Glenn whenever they happened to pass each other. The ex-cop always had a smug look in his face, smirking almost manically at Glenn's misfortune. Even Andrea, who had been Shane's biggest supporter during their time at the farm, wasn't sure what to make of the older man's actions. His homophobia seemed to have risen to a whole new level.

Hearing the door open, Glenn looked up from his work. T-Dog and Rick walked in, guns over their shoulders. They were talking quietly, throwing him a quick glance as they approached.

"Something you need?" Glenn asked.

"Yeah, actually," Rick said. "We're going to make a run into town. Emrys said he drew a map of the town layout for you."

"He did. It's upstairs in my pack. I can get it for you," Glenn replied.

"We actually were wondering if you wanted to come with. Thought you might want to get out of the Compound for a while," T-Dog explained.

Glenn shot them a smile and nodded. "Let me just go get my stuff."

Carefully taking each step at a time, Glenn walked up to the second floor and to his room. Grabbing the small backpack from the corner, he opened the flap to double check that all of his scavenging supplies were still there. He silently tallied in his head, nodding once for each item: a lock pick set, an extra pistol that was fully loaded, two bottles of water, and a few granola bars he'd stolen at the beginning of the crises.

Swinging the pack over his shoulders he went back downstairs to find Rick and T-Dog waiting by the door. They exchanged glances, silently alerting each other that they were all ready.

"Got the map?" Rick asked.

Glenn patted the side pocket of the backpack, slipping his hand in to pull out the small piece of paper that Emrys had given him nearly a month earlier.

As they headed out to the cars, Glenn glanced up at Anna who had taken over Rick's usual afternoon guard. She had her shotgun set against her shoulder, hair pulled back in the severely tight ponytail it always was. Her strides along the foot-wide breadth of the wall were sure and graceful, moving like a lithe cat. She motioned to him with her gun, rocking it forward off of her shoulder slightly in some strange form of a salute.

Opening the back door to Rick's SUV, Glenn threw his pack inside and leapt up, sliding onto the seat. The second that the door was closed, Rick started the SUV and they were off, driving through the gates that Avi had opened for them. Glenn glanced back through the window to watch the large man close them again, securing the chains and locks.

"Anything specific we're looking for?" Glenn asked, turning back to face forward.

"Food more than anything else," Rick said from the driver's seat. "We have enough to get us through winter, but it's best to be careful. If the Compound ever gets run over, we want to have food stored in the RV and the cars as a precaution."

"Emrys told me that there is a market just off the main road. The front shelves are pretty well picked over but the back room, where the owners kept all of the stuff that hadn't been put out for sale yet, is pretty well stocked still. Apparently no one thought to go back there when they tried to leave town and escape," Glenn explained.

"You'd think that the ending of the world would have made people more resourceful," T-Dog mused.

"Panic makes them do crazy things, but when you have walkers behind you, most people would try to get out as soon as possible. They may not think about something that isn't in front of their faces," Rick sighed as they turned a somewhat sharp corner along the winding dirt road.

Glenn nodded in agreement, thinking back to those early days when the walkers had broken through the Army and National Guard barricades around Atlanta. He had been delivering a pizza at the time as his boss had decided that, even with the city on lockdown, business needed to go on. The house he was delivering to was near South Bend Park and just blocks from some of the outermost barricades. He had just handed over the box when he heard shouting followed by shots and even screaming. Rushing back to his car, he'd opened the driver's side door when the first walker had appeared on the street.

He knew that he would remember that walker –a man- until the day he died. It had come stumbling towards him, one arm missing as well as a large chunk of its throat and right shoulder. A few bullet holes decorated the front of the walker's torn and dirt-stained collared shirt. This had been before the National Guard had become aware that shooting them in the head was the way to kill them.

The walker had turned its white eyes to him, growling and snarling as it limped down the street. Jumping into his car, Glenn had stomped down on the gas pedal as quickly and with as much force as he could. The car wheels squealed as he raced back to his apartment, leaving a quick message for his parents and his friends from work that he knew were out on deliveries.

He never heard back from any of them and that night, he left Atlanta.

As they turned out onto the main road, Glenn was knocked out of his thoughts, focusing once again on the road in front of them. They passed a single walker that was straggling along the side of the broken, cracked asphalt, barely even noticing them as they drove by. Coming to the center of the town, Rick pulled up in front of the grocery, two blocks away from the main street.

Slowly, Glenn crept out of the back seat, searching around for walkers. Rick got out beside him and they glanced at each other, nodding. They stepped up onto the cement walk in front of the market, T-Dog following close behind with watchful eyes and a crowbar in hand.

The inside of the store was a mess. The glass from the front door had been smashed it, probably by marauding walkers searching for people once trapped inside. A few boxes of various grain foods had been thrown on the floor, along with various other items. Fruits and vegetables sat rotting in the crates on one side of the store. Mold and various other unidentifiable fungi had started growing on the meat inside the glass case at the back.

One shelving unit had been overturned and a dead body, a walker, lay underneath unmoving. Dried blood streaked the ceramic floor beside the downed walker, having once flown freely when the falling shelf had crushed its head. Other bloodstains were littered around the small market, flung up on walls and covering parts of the floor. In the far corner, Glenn even found the skeleton of a human, the flesh pulled away by the walkers that had eaten it.

Gagging slightly, Glenn rubbed his stomach gently, trying to quell the rising nausea. T-Dog noticed the green tint to Glenn's face as he passed, setting a hand on the younger man's shoulder. The Asian man jumped slightly, swinging around, thinking it was a walker. T-Dog shot him a small smile and patted his shoulder once in comfort. Blushing slightly, Glenn pushed into the back room of the store, following Rick.

Emrys had been right. Most of the shelves were stocked full of foods that Glenn had never thought he'd seen again. The perishable food had long since gone bad, but the seemingly endless cans of preserved fruits and vegetables, the boxes of noodles, and the canisters of cheap, ready-made soups make his heart swell with excitement.

Grabbing a small crate from the corner, Glenn set it on the floor and started to rifle through the shelves, searching for anything that would last as long as possible. T-Dog kept watch at the door as Rick started to help, placing cans, jars, and plastic containers full of the necessities in his own crate.

Glenn was bending down to pick up his full crate when T-Dog hissed, "Glenn, don't!"

Frowning, Glenn looked up at the older man. T-Dog motioned to the crate with his crowbar. "No heavy lifting, remember?"

"I'm barely two months, T-Dog," Glenn sighed.

"Logan's and Emrys's orders," the black man replied.

Touched by the other man's concern, Glenn glanced over at Rick. The ex-cop nodded as he picked up the crate he had filled.

"I'll take that to the car next. Fill up another one for the RV," he said as he left the room, heading towards the cars.

With a soft sigh, Glenn did as he was told, reaching for another crate. Moving to another shelving unit, he started to go through the boxes there. Pushing aside the crackers and jars of spaghetti sauce, he found something that interested him greatly. He glanced over his shoulder. T-Dog had his back turned to Glenn, still standing guard and Rick was out at the SUV, loading the first crate into the back.

Swiping a couple of boxes from the back of the shelf, Glenn tore them open as quietly as he could and dumped the contents into the front pocket of his backpack. Nervously, he looked over at T-Dog one more time before placing the now empty boxes back on the shelf. As he zipped the pocket closed and set the backpack on his shoulders, he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He really didn't want to face teasing from T-Dog for what he'd just dumped in his bag.

While the man was usually so serious, T-Dog and Glenn had formed quite a close bond as the only two in the group that weren't white. If he could find anything to tease Glenn about, he would break his serious exterior in a second, especially when it came to Daryl. Of course, both men knew that it was friendly fun and there was no malice behind it, not like with Shane.

Just as he was about to start going through the shelves again, he heard a quiet swear and he whipped around just in time for T-Dog to rush out of the back room. Glenn frowned and moved to follow him, staying low as he slinked towards the front of the store. T-Dog crouched in the open doorway, glancing around the side of the doorframe. Rick was kneeling behind the SUV, hiding behind the back bumper.

Moving to the other side of the doorframe, Glenn shot a quick glance through the open doorway and paled. A herd of walkers were slowly coming up the street from the center of town, moaning loudly as they shuffled their feet along the cement. They were still a good two blocks away, but it was only a matter of time before the walkers were upon them.

Rick motioned for Glenn to come as T-Dog dashed towards the back of the store, probably to get the last crate Glenn had filled. Silently and slowly, Glenn slipped outside and practically crawled on all fours to Rick. The ex-cop quietly opened the two doors on the driver's side of the car, shooing Glenn into the back of the car. Crouching down on the floor of the back seat, the Asian man glanced out the window and quickly ducked back down. The walkers were getting closer.

Just then, their attention shifted away from the road at their feet to the SUV. T-Dog came running out of the store and threw the crate into the back of the SUV, slamming the hatchback door shut.

"Get in, get in!" he shouted as he rushed back around to the driver's side of the car.

Rick jumped into the front seat and started up the car as T-Dog leapt in beside Glenn, swinging the door shut. The moment that the SUV roared to life, the walkers were less than twenty feet away. Stepping on the gas, Rick directed the speeding SUV out onto the street, away from the walkers. The hoard moaned and reached for them, turning to follow the vehicle.

"Shit, we need to get back to the Compound," Rick cried as he swerved onto the next street, directing the attention of a few more walkers that stood on the front lawn of a boarded-up house.

Pulling the map out of his backpack, Glenn searched for any potential way to get back to the main road while avoiding the herd.

"How many do you think were out there?" T-Dog asked, glancing through the back window. "I haven't seen so many in one place since Atlanta."

"At least a hundred if not more," Rick replied breathlessly.

"Okay!" Glenn shouted. "In about four blocks, turn left onto Lee Drive. Take that for about half a mile then turn left onto Irvine. If we follow that to the end then take another left, the main road that leads to the Compound's driveway should be less than block away. I bet we can completely go around the herd."

"I sure hope this works," Rick groaned as they sped down the street, the SUV bumping as it raced through potholes and over cracks.

Glenn gripped his seat tightly, staring out the window to watch for walkers. Inside his head, he was swearing quietly. It seemed that his supply runs were almost cursed. First, there had been the disaster in Atlanta when they found Rick. Now, they were being chased by a herd of walkers the likes of which they hadn't seen since that day at the department store.

Sighing, he rubbed his temples. The world was still hell outside even if they had found a haven once again.

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**A/N EDIT: I just wanted to post a request here. If anyone desperately wants to co-write a Daryl/Glenn story, I'm looking for someone. I already have an idea which will be pretty AU and involve abuse of Glenn. His backstory will probably be vastly different as he won't be with the group for the plots of Seasons 1 and 2. Here is the idea and it takes place sometime during the long break between seasons 2 and 3: Rick, Daryl, and the other Atlanta survivors are scavenging through a house when they hear noises coming from the basement. Down in the darkness, they find three things: a dead walker, a large supply of food, and a young man locked in a cage. Anyone interested or should I just write this story myself? Looking for help here guys.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: After a few days, I have returned to this story. One of my others really needed to be completed so I focused on that one for the last two days, but now, I am back to this one! I am encouraged by the positive response I got to my posted idea for a new fic and I am still considering my options, but whether I do it alone or not, I will be writing it at some point. I think I need to finish at least one of my older ones first (which thankfully, I'm close to doing). REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 12

When they pulled up the Compound, Avi raced to open the locks. The moment that the iron gates began to open, the SUV shot forward, squealing around the side of the building. Anna, who stood up on the wall, frowned down at Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog as they leapt out of the vehicle.

"What happened?" Avi asked as he jogged over.

"Walkers," Rick gasped.

"A whole fucking ton!" T-Dog added. "It was like a herd."

"A herd?" Anna asked from up on the wall, gripping her gun tightly.

"What was that about a herd?" Emrys asked as he stepped around the building.

His hand rested on the underside of his heavy stomach, helping him to balance as he walked towards them. Lori, Carol, and Logan stood from where they'd been working in the garden, all bearing worried looks on their faces. From up in the watch room on the fourth floor, Shane stared down at them with a strong frown. Daryl came from the other side of the building, carrying a knife bloody from the squirrels he had been skinning.

Glenn could feel his lover's hot gaze focused on him as Rick began speaking. He gulped softly as Daryl came up behind him. One large hand gently touched his lower back, fingertips tracing either side of his spin. Glenn shivered and tried to focus on what Rick was saying.

Daryl, however, wasn't having any of that. He pressed himself up against Glenn's back, nestling Glenn's backside against his groin. The smaller man moaned quietly as one of Daryl's hands gripped his hip tightly. His other hand skimmed up Glenn's spine to settle between his shoulder blades, forcing the younger man to tense momentarily from a cool blast that ran across his skin, raising goose bumps all the way across his back and down his arms. Glenn found himself relaxing, nearly sobbing with happiness as the tension left his shoulders and the adrenaline started to calm in his veins. Nausea that he hadn't noticed began to settle, sliding back down his throat to his stomach.

"The herds are getting bigger," Emrys mused when Rick had finished his story.

"More and more are moving out of the cities and towns. It's almost like they're purposefully walking together to get food. Even when we were at the farm, you never just seemed to see one," Rick said.

"Pack instinct, do you think? Like wolves?" Avi asked.

"It's possible," Rick sighed. "I'd hate to think they're somehow evolving."

"Evolution has nothing to do with it. Walkers were once humans and humans are predominantly driven by social needs to be around other people. I wouldn't be surprise if, when they turn, walkers come back with that innate human instinct," Emrys explained, shrugging slightly.

A door slammed open and everyone turned to see Shane come stomping towards them, hands on his hips. He scowled at Emrys as he passed, walking over to stand beside Rick. Rolling his eyes, Emrys snorted and turned his focus back to the other ex-cop.

"I thought they would never amass in a herd of that size," he sighed.

"I should be walking the wall with Rick on the night watch. We can't let those walkers sneak up on us," Shane cut in. "We were sheriffs deputies. It was our job to defend the public."

Emrys turned his gaze to Rick, his blond eyebrows raised. His dislike for the idea was apparent by the downward slant to one side of mouth and the dark twinkle in his blue eyes. Rick seemed simple unsure what to do. Glenn felt a little sorry for the other man. On one hand, Shane was his best friend and former partner during their days on the force. On the other, the Compound was Emrys's territory and when they had arrived, Rick had agreed that Emrys had the final say in every group decision. From where he stood, Glenn thought that it was a more than difficult positon to be in.

"I would like to have Shane on the wall with me. It's not that I don't trust the rest of you guys, but Shane knows how I work. Besides, we are two of the most trained in the group when it comes to guns," Rick said finally.

Slowly, Emrys nodded and backed off. "Alright. If you feel that you'll work best together, that is what we'll do. In order to balance out numbers, Lance you'll be moving to the morning patrol. Logan, you'll take Rick's spot on the wall during the afternoon. Andrea?"

"Yes?" the blond woman asked.

"You'll take over Shane's old position helping Glenn with part of my watch. From what I've heard, you can handle it," Emrys said.

Andrea's eyes widened and she grinned, excitement spilling across her face. She straightened up and set her hands on her hips, fingering the pistol at her waist slightly. Daryl snorted quietly in Glenn's ear, clearly remembering the day at the form when she had shot him.

"I am," Andrea replied with complete confidence.

"I would like to stand watch as well," Dale piped up.

Emrys paused for a moment, thinking. Finally, he said, "You can take the night watch with Lance, Daryl, and Logan. Do you want to take the room upstairs or walk the walls?"

"I definitely don't think that a man my age should be walking foot-wide walls at night," Dale chuckled.

"Too true. Logan, are you okay with the walls?" Emrys asked.

The older man nodded. "I have no problem with that. If anything happens though-"

"We'll come get you. Don't worry," Emrys said, cutting him off. "Alright everyone. Let's get to work. I wouldn't be surprised if we're marauded by that herd tonight."

Glenn lay awake that night in the darkness, sitting on the bed with his legs crossed in front of him. He had pulled the bed up to the window, staring out through a small peephole between the heavy blankets that hung in the window. A few torches had been lit in the yard behind the wall to provide some light for the guards.

His eyes followed the dark, muscled figure that he knew was Daryl. The older man held his crossbow in his hands, ready to shoot at the first thing that moaned in the trees beyond the wall. Light from the lamps traced the edges of the muscles in his arms, giving him a powerful aura that matched his fierce, animal-like attitude during the day. Glenn shivered slightly as he closed the flap and sat back on the bed, rubbing his stomach.

He still hadn't talked to Daryl since their argument the week before. Glenn knew he would have to sooner or later and he knew that he would need to be open about his feelings. He really did like Daryl, even with his rough attitude and abrasive personality. The older man was almost everything that Glenn was not and that was what Glenn liked –loved- about him.

Sighing, he collapsed back onto the bed, hands still on his flat stomach. He glanced down at his hands, tipping his head to the right a little. None of it seemed completely real to him yet and it probably wouldn't until he started showing. He closed his eyes as his hand slipped under his shirt, gently tracing the skin.

Suddenly, there was a shout from outside and Glenn sat up abruptly. Pushing open the little flap in the blankets, he glanced outside and gasped softly. In the faint light of the lanterns, Glenn could make out the outlines of figures shuffling towards the gate. Their moans and snarls grew in strength, managing to make it through the glass and into the house. Glenn shivered as the first ones made it to the gate, clawing and pushing against it with their dirty, bloody hands. He could see Daryl, Shane, and the others rushing along the wall, trying to figure out what to do.

The door opened and Glenn jumped around to see Anna standing in the door, pulling her hair up before securing it with a piece of leather. Her shotgun was over her shoulder, the metal glinting in the soft light.

"Let's get downstairs. Emrys will want a meeting," she said as she raced from the doorway and down the stairs.

Glenn wasn't far behind, following her down the steps and into the living room. A few of the others were already there, Avi and Logan included. Rick had raced through the door not moments earlier, his Colt Python clutched tightly in his hand.

"There's a huge swarm of them out there, at least a hundred or maybe more," he said breathlessly. "I don't know if the gate will hold."

"Are they all out at the front?" Emrys asked as he carefully descended the stairs, a hand planted under his heavy belly.

"Shane saw several out at the back too, but he wasn't sure how many. The wall is too slick for them to scale, but if they all make it to the front of the complex… I wouldn't be sure if we could hold them. There's just too many."

"And shooting may attract even more," Avi murmured.

"Can't we just wait them out?" Lori asked, clutching Carl closely as she came downstairs.

"That gate is pretty secure-" Avi started.

"But things can go wrong," Emrys finished, stepping up beside Glenn.

"What do you suggest we do then?" Lance asked, scratching his hairy chest.

"Do we know if the entire road is blocked?" Emrys asked Rick.

"No idea," the ex-cop replied.

Nodding, Emrys quickly said, "Take the lanterns up onto the walls. Hold them up, try and see how far the herd stretches. I know it will drive them crazy, but we need to know if we are going to get out of here."

"Are we going to leave?" Lori asked, her voice shaking.

"We may have no other choice," Avi sighed.

As Rick raced back outside, Emrys started to direct those inside the house.

"Everyone go get all of your stuff and pile it into the vehicles. Then, get as much food as possible into the trunks or Dale's RV. If we do leave, we'll need to leave the town entirely. I'm not risking this herd finding us again anytime soon," Emrys snapped.

As if they were suddenly released from a spell, everyone jumped to do their jobs. Lori, Andrea, and Carl raced upstairs with Glenn while Logan, Lance, and Avi moved to the pantry to start taking out the foodstuffs that were stored there. Rushing into his room, Glenn threw open the drawers of the dresser and tossed the few things he'd put away into his pack. Daryl's stuff was still packed away which made his work easier, but in a split second decision, he ripped the heavy blankets from the windows. Throwing them over his shoulder with each pack, he trekked downstairs, swerving to avoid Anna as she ran past him.

The second that he left the house, the moans of the walkers overwhelmed him. He stole a glance over at the gate and gulped. They were strained against it, reaching through the bars with their claw-like hands. Fighting to ignore them, he jogged over to the vehicles, tossing his pack and Daryl's into Dale's RV along with the blankets. Lori and Carl were right behind him, organizing everything to maximize the space.

"Shit!" Shane spat from up on the wall, holding a lantern high above his head. "Rick, there's gotta be more than a hundred of walkers here."

"How's the road look?" Rick shouted back over the noise as he searched the crowd of walkers.

"They're all coming from around the walls. The road looks pretty clear," Shane called back.

"That gate isn't going to hold," Daryl shouted as he ran along the top of the wall from the other side of the building.

Racing back into the house, Glenn moved to help Logan as the older man gathered up some of his medical supplies. The gray-haired man threw him a thankful glance as they carried the four bags of medicines, scalpels and other small equipment out to the cars, carefully setting them in the backseat of Logan's station wagon.

"Shane, Daryl!" Rick shouted as he leapt down from the wall, landing softly on the grass below. "Get down here and help! The gate isn't going to hold much longer."

Both men followed Rick down into the Compound's courtyard, rushing inside to help with whatever was left. When Glenn and Logan had finished carrying out his supplies, the older man directed him to make sure Dale's RV was ready.

"Glenn, do you know where the map is?" Dale asked from the front seat of the RV.

"It's under your seat, I thought!" Glenn replied as he began shoving the packs into the far corner, clearing off the seats so people could sit.

"Ah, found it!" Dale cried triumphantly as he tossed the folded paper onto the dashboard.

"Hurry up, hurry up!" Andrea shouted as she lugged several boxes of nonperishable foods onto the RV, stacking them beside the packs. "Avi and Rick say that we have only a few minutes tops."

"Just keep everything coming," Glenn said, going back to his work.

Andrea raced back out of the RV again and disappeared. Glenn didn't dare glance out the door of the RV, which was pointed in the direction of the gate. The iron was creaking loudly from the weight of the walkers, straining under their hands.

A few tense seconds later, Glenn heard Daryl shout something incoherent and he finally looked up. The gate was swinging inwards, held only by the thick chain and lock. Andrea and Tasha rushed up the stairs of the RV and threw themselves onto the seats as Dale started the engine.

"Kid, sit down!" Daryl snarled as he jumped into the RV, swinging the door shut behind him.

Glenn nodded and rushed up to sit beside Dale, double-checking to make sure that they had everything they needed. He heard the other vehicles start up around them and squeal out as Dale started to back up the RV and swing it around to face forward.

The moment that Glenn looked up, the gate broke. Walkers rushed through, stumbling towards the vehicles as Rick hit the gas, plowing through them. As he drove through the crowd, either crushing the limping figures underneath the car or pushing them out of the way, Anna rolled down one of the windows and began firing at those that came too close, taking them out one by one. Logan followed not far behind in his truck with Emrys and Lance beside him, plowing over those walkers that tried to close around the back of Rick's SUV.

Glenn felt his heart drop into his stomach as Dale started forward, not more than a few car lengths behind Logan. The walkers rushed at them, snarling and moaning as they reached out for the old RV. The RV creaked softly as they bumped over fallen walkers and ran over a couple of new ones, Glenn grasping the arms of his seat tightly.

Suddenly he felt a hand grasp his elbow and he almost let out a shriek. Another hand clapped over his mouth, silencing him until he recognized Daryl's voice.

"Calm down, kid," he murmured so softly that Glenn barely heard it. "It's not good for yah."

Glenn nodded violently as they raced down the rugged pathway that led to town. He fixed his eyes on the back of Logan's head in the truck ahead of them, taking deep breaths to steady his wildly beating heart. When he'd calmed down, Daryl let his hand slip from Glenn's mouth to settle on his shoulder.

As they raced through the silent, dead town, Andrea quietly asked, "Where are we going to go now?"

"Somewhere that we can shack up for maybe a week or so, somewhere far from here," Tasha said from the chair on the other side of the table. "We'll have to. Emrys is due soon and he won't be able to travel for at least a day or two after he gives birth."

"We can't just keep moving from place to place," Andrea gasped.

"We don't have any other choice," Dale replied. "The walkers are grouping up now. It'll take it easier to avoid the majority them with so many in one place if we can track the herds, but it makes it more likely that they'll break into any sort of settlement we make."

"Shity motherfuckin' bastards," Daryl snarled as he sunk to the floor between Dale's seat and Glenn's.

"We're just lucky we got out of the Compound in time. If we'd still be inside when they stormed through that gate, we would all have been dead," Dale said, eyes focused intently on the road.

Glenn glanced down at Daryl, whose eyes were hooded with shadows. He gulped quietly at the domineering, angry look on his lover's face, his fists clenching in the material of his cotton sleeping pants as he looked away. A hand, Daryl's hand, lightly gripped the inside of his elbow and ran down the inside length of his arm, pulling his hand away from the cotton of his pants and down onto the seat. His palm was facing up as a few fingers traced lightly over the skin, tickling him slightly in a calming way.

If they hadn't just faced another harrowing experience, Glenn would have smiled. He did, however, steal another look at the older man. Daryl was staring straight ahead, face expressionless, but his fingers still moved across Glenn's palm. He wasn't sure, but this seemed to be as close as Glenn was going to get to an apology from Daryl for the argument they'd had a week before. Curling his own fingers, Glenn rested the tips on Daryl's knuckled, copying the light, soothing action. He didn't even notice the smirk that Tasha was giving him nor the somewhat shocked expression of Andrea as the two women watched them.

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	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: More and more reviews just keep coming. Thank you everyone for the continued support. Here is our newest installment and I hope you like it. REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 13

The next two weeks were hell for them all. They kept to the roads, not daring to stop for long after their last few attempts at finding a resting place. At night, they would stop along the highway with at least two people on watch at all times. They took turns standing on the top of the RV, eyes watchful for walkers.

Thankfully, none came.

Logan had Emrys moved into the RV, reclining on the bed in the back. His time was coming and they all knew. It was only a matter of time. Logan slept on the floor beside him, preferring to be close in case it happened during the night. Dale and Andrea slept in the front seats, while Daryl and Glenn took the small seats on either side of the table. Avi was allowed to sleep in the RV so he could be close to his husband, taking the floor due to his large size.

The rest stayed in their own cars, spreading out in the back of the station wagon or the two SUV's. With Logan and Emrys out of the truck, Lance got to stretch out on the long, single seat.

The days were tense and the nights breathless as they waited for something to happen. When they did stop, Daryl and Anna went out hunting together during the days, shooting squirrel, rabbit, and whatever else they could find. Meals were cooked over a portable stove in the RV, everyone crowding inside to eat from their tin plates and sip on water from bottles that Logan had stored in the back of his station wagon. The others would scavenge what they could from any cars they passed along the way, finding extra blankets and occasionally some things that Emrys would need after the baby was born.

Carl was probably the most excited about the birth. Since the loss of Sofia, he'd been the only child in the group, the next youngest being Glenn at age twenty-three. Everyone was just worried, even the fathers-to-be. No one knew what was going to happen.

The tension didn't help Glenn or Daryl either. The older man was still distant and quiet, never saying more than necessary to anyone else. They would curl up together at night on the floor of the RV before one of them was disturbed to go out on watch, but even then, contact was minimum. Glenn always slept with his back to Daryl's chest, the older man's right arm slung over his waist. The other was always bent under Daryl's head as a pillow while Glenn used a balled up towel for his. Despite the closeness, they rarely slept, catching a few hours here and there throughout the night.

The smell didn't help either. In order to prevent any passing walkers from possibly smelling them during the nights, Rick, Dale, and Logan had painted the doors of the cars with walker blood from one that they killed during their second day on the road. While it did keep the walkers away, the smell was still putrid and disgusting, seeming to permeate even into their clothes and hair. It filled the air and made them gag, causing them to choke sometimes on their own breath. Lori, who had been experiencing some strong morning sickness, had thrown up out the window of the SUV multiple times.

The important thing though was that they were surviving.

It was about two weeks after they left the Compound that tensions finally broke. Everyone was scavenging through another series of cars with Dale and Glenn on watch on top of the RV. Daryl and Anna had gone out on another hunt.

"Pleasant day," Dale said, his shotgun hanging over his shoulder.

Glenn snorted and asked, "Are we going to try and make small talk now?"

"It helps pass the time, doesn't it?" the older man asked.

"Maybe but-"

"What the fuck does that mean?"

Glenn looked ahead to see Rick and Shane come storming through the graveyard of car. Rick was in the lead, Shane following not far behind. Pulling off his hat, Rick stopped and turned to his best friend. Practically growling, Shane pushed him back, causing Rick to stumble.

"What the fuck are you talkin' about, man?" Shane shouted.

"You know exactly what I mean, Shane. You need to just cool it," Rick replied, setting his hat back on his head.

"In case you haven't noticed, Rick, but we're in the middle of a huge fuckin' problem!" Shane screamed.

"Exactly and that's why you need to calm down," Rick said.

Shane looked away for a moment before turning back to his friend. "I'm just being realistic, man."

"And you're starting to scare the fuck out of people. Shane, you're scaring the hell out of me!" Rick snapped.

"What should we do?" Glenn asked Dale as the two ex-cops started to fight.

"Leave them be," Dale replied, shaking his head. "They'll do one of two things. Either they'll talk it over and figure it all out or they'll start throwing punches. "

He paused for a moment, thinking.

"If they get to the punches, we'll go down and stop 'em."

Glenn nodded as he continued to watch the two men argue. They were circling around each other, Shane snarling and baring his teeth. Rick was trying to reason with him, but Shane clearly wasn't having it.

"Really, man? Are you sure about that?" he shouted.

"I'm trying to best I can, Shane!"

"Really? 'Cause I sure as hell don't think you are!"

Rick recoiled away from the other man, his face contorting into a look of shock, frustration, and sadness. Shane kept advancing though, his hands balled into fists.

"Dale?" Glenn asked.

The older man walked over to stand beside him. He took one glance at Shane and he nodded, understanding.

"I'll go down. You stay here."

Glenn nodded, clutching his shotgun tightly as Dale climbed down from the top of the RV. Below, Shane threw the first punch, hitting Rick square in the chin. The ex-cop fell down flat on his back, grabbing at his chin when Shane bore down on him, throwing punch after punch.

"Hey!" Dale shouted as he ran over, grabbing Shane's elbow.

Shane growled and aimed back at Dale, throwing him off before he started on Rick again. Others ran over, Avi finally hauling Shane off of his best friend with the dark-haired man writhing and shouting and kicking.

"You okay?" Dale asked, helping Rick back on his feet.

Rick nodded, stumbling a little when he tried to stand up straight. Dale gripped his shoulder, steadying him as Lori and Carl ran over.

"Are you okay?" Lori asked.

"He says he's fine," Dale replied as Rick tried to regain his sense of balance.

"That fucking son of a bitch!" Shane was screaming at the top of his lungs as Avi drug him away. "I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch!"

"Shane, calm down," Andrea said as she stalked over. "Rick hasn't done anything wrong."

"Sure he hasn't. Oh no! Officer Friendly could never do anything wrong!" Shane laughed.

"Just shut up," Lance snapped, circling around Shane to stand in front of the dark-haired man. "You're going to draw the walkers in."

"Who gives a fuck? Won't Officer Rick Grimes protect us all?" Shane cried.

Avi clapped a huge hand over his mouth, silencing him. "That's enough," he said ina calm and collected voice."

The door to the RV opened and Glenn turned to see Emrys step out, wobbling slightly. His blond hair was plastered against his forehead and his eyes clouded as he glanced up at Glenn. Dark eyes widening, Glenn rushed down from the top of the RV and over to the other man. Emrys didn't speak as he approached, panting lightly. His hand was resting on his stomach, fingers shaking slightly.

"Fuck," Glenn murmured.

Emrys gave him a watery smile as he grabbed Glenn's hand. The smaller man nodded and led him back into the RV, helping him up the steps. Behind them, everyone else was arguing and shouting. When they were at the top of the steps and in the RV, Emrys gasped quietly, gripping the counter. Glenn supported the blond man as he shook, grunting quietly.

"_Cachiad_," Emrys swore, clutching Glenn's hand in the other.** (1)**

He shot a glance at Glenn, who'd paled. Laughing a little, he nodded to the other man.

"Just give me a second. It'll pass. It's good for me to stand anyway, even with these."

Glenn gulped and nodded. When the pain passed, they continued to the back. When they reached it, they began walking up and down the galley of the RV, stopping only when the next contraction reared its head. Sometimes, the pain would leave the blond man breathless. Each time this happened, Glenn panicked inside. He had really started to panic since Emrys had first left the RV, but it was beginning to grow with each passing minute.

He knew he'd go through the same thing if he survived. In six months, it would be him walking up and down the galley of the RV or wherever they were, gritting his teeth and groaning through the contractions. He just hoped that there would be someone to hold his hand when he needed something to squeeze the life out of. Hopefully it would be Daryl, but Glenn wasn't counting his ducks before they hatched.

They had just made it to the back room when they heard someone come running up the steps. Glenn glanced over his shoulder to see Dale standing in the doorway of the RV. He stared at them, a curious look in his eyes. Emrys managed a smile before another contraction hit. He leaned on Glenn, spreading his legs as he began panting lightly, sweat forming on his forehead.

Glenn turned back to Dale and said, "Get Logan and Avi."

Dale nodded and dashed out to look for the two men. Emrys stood up straight as the pain passed, unclenching his hand. His breath slowed as he breathed in and out, steadying himself.

"Emrys!" Avi cried as he raced up into the RV.

He gently laid his hand on Emrys's shoulder as the blond man turned to face his husband. Letting go of Glenn's hand, the blond man leaned up against the much larger Avi. Glenn stepped back as Logan stepped up into the RV, stopped at Emrys's side to check him.

"Have you been timing them?" Logan asked.

Emrys shook his head as he grabbed Avi's arm and started walking up and down the galley again.

"Glenn," Logan said, "Can you get a bunch of towels from the back of my truck? I'd rather not use any of the blankets. They'll be valuable when it starts to get cooler."

Leaving the RV, Glenn jogged over to the truck and ignored the stares he was getting. Reaching into the bed of the truck, he pulled out several tags and towels, carrying the stack back to the RV. Logan took them from him as he rushed to the back to prepare the bed.

Stepping out of the RV once again, Glenn finally met the curious and worried stares. He held up his hands in surrender.

"Everything's okay. Logan's in charge," he said.

"It's Emrys, isn't it?" Tasha asked.

Glenn nodded. "He's uh… well…"

"We understanding," Rick sighed, holding up his hand to cut the younger man off. "Fuck, it just had to be when we're out in the open."

"We all knew this was coming. It's not like it was a surprise," Lance said.

"No, but the timing couldn't have been much worse," Shane snarled.

"Hey, it's not like he can fucking control it," Anna snapped.

"Yeah, well maybe if he'd never fucked in the first place, we wouldn't be in this mess," Shane spat back, "And that is something he can control."

Glenn clenched his teeth and took a deep breath to fight down his anger.

"Shane, just shut up, would you?" Lori asked.

"Yeah, from what I remember you couldn't control your dick for anything back before the world ended," Rick added.

Shane has just started turned on his old friend, snarling when Avi came out of the RV. He walked over to them, his steps calm and steady. Stopping in front of Shane, he towered over the ex-cop. His face gave nothing away as he tipped his head a little to the side, fixing Shane with a strong stare.

"Listen Shane, I don't want to talk to you about this again. If you have a problem with Emrys and I, then you have two options. Either you can leave or you can stop saying things like that," he said slowly and calmly.

Just as Shane opened his mouth to speak, Avi snapped his arm out and grabbed Shane's neck. Everyone around them froze as Avi started to pull up, lifting Shane up onto his toes. The dark-haired man was coughing and choking, trying to get air into his lungs as Avi lifted him off of his feet entirely.

"I don't appreciate you saying those things and neither does Emrys, okay? We kept you alive and without us, you, your group, and even Glenn would have probably been bitten or eaten by now. You owe us some respect at least for that."

Avi quickly dropped him, silently heading back into the RV. Shane coughed and clutched at his throat from where he lay on the ground, glaring at Avi's back. He turned to look at the people around him, but he found no sympathy in their eyes. Snarling, he picked himself up and stormed off, grabbing his gun from where he'd dropped it on the pavement.

Rick shot a look at Glenn who sighed and nodded, turning to walk off in the opposite direction that Shane had taken.

When Daryl and Anna returned just before nightfall, everyone else was sitting around a small campfire they'd just set up on the side of the road. Shane and Glenn were sitting on opposite sides of the fire, silently waiting. The moment that Daryl dropped a few skinned squirrels between Lori and Carol, the two women jumped into action, starting to prepare the kills for roasting.

Setting down his crossbow, Daryl dropped down beside Glenn, Anna taking the smaller man's other side. Anna's bright eyes examined Shane over the fire, hard and cold. Daryl followed her gaze, his mouth twitching a little. Reaching out, he patted Glenn's hand once before retracting his own. He caught Shane's gaze, glaring at the dark-haired man as he stared back at Daryl and Glenn. Shane snorted and got up, walking away from the fire and into the darkness.

"Someone want to explain what happened?" Anna asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Emrys started feeling pains. Logan and Avi have been in the RV with him all afternoon," Tasha said.

"No shit," Anna murmured.

"And I'll bet Shane over there wasn't too happy about that," Daryl growled, fingering his crossbow.

"No, I'd say not," Rick chuckled a little.

"It was cool," Carl cut in, "Avi coming out and grabbing Shane like that!"

Daryl and Anna turned to Rick, their questions silent, but apparent. Rick sighed and shifted before he explained.

"Shane was saying some… things about Emrys. Avi got fed up, I guess. He came out of the RV and picked Shane up by his neck, held him off the ground, said a few things, and dropped him again," the ex-cop said.

"Then Shane went storming off and hasn't talked to anyone since," Dale added.

Anna shook her head, glaring intensely at nothing.

"I knew he would be trouble right from the start. I could just see it in his face, in his walk. He's a hothead and he's going to get us all killed sooner-"

"Anna," Lance warned, "Cool it."

Reluctantly, the young woman sat back against the car that Daryl and Glenn were leaning against. Throwing a glance over at the two men beside her, she reached out and grabbed Glenn's hand. The Asian man jerked in surprise, turning to her. She nodded to him and gave him a small smile or at least what he assumed was a smile. It was more of a twitch than anything else.

Glenn relaxed between the two hunters, watching as the squirrels roasted on spits over the fire. He stared at the flames as they licked at the meat, roasting it carefully. They twirled upwards from their sources in the small twigs and logs that made up their campfire, bending as they reached for the bodies of the squirrels. They danced around the flesh before falling back down again, having reached their pinnacle. Glenn's dark eyes followed as they repeated their path, rising up again, waving, and then falling once more.

Unconsciously, his hand had dropped to his stomach. He had the first sign of a bump, tiny in comparison to Emrys's, but still large enough for him to notice. Stroking it lightly, he felt a warmth start to enter his heart. He almost gasped when he realized what it was: love. He loved this baby though he didn't know how it had started. Noe matter how unusual or just downright weird his situation was, he couldn't help, but love it.

He glanced down at his shirt as he continued to stroke the bump. Beside him, Daryl shifted and moved closer. Glenn didn't dare to raise his eyes as he felt a strong arm wind around behind his back. He held his breath, his hand stilling as Daryl's hand came to rest on his hip, fingers digging lightly into his side.

Glenn stole a look at Anna, who was expressionless. She threw a short glance down at Daryl's hand before meeting Glenn's gaze. Her face remained as cold as stone, but in her eyes, Glenn could make out the amused, delighted smirk. Blushing, Glenn looked away from the woman, his hand returning to stroking his stomach.

Everyone ate their dinner in silence. When all of the plates has been stacked up in a plastic tub for Lori and Carol to wash in the morning, they returned to their cars, leaving a few pieces of meat behind for Shane to eat if he wished. While the others were readying to go to bed, Dale, Andrea, Daryl, and Glenn climbed up onto the top of the RV to keep watch. Through the somewhat open shaft that led down into the body of the RV, they could hear a few soft whimpers and soothing words.

Daryl and Andrea took the first watch while Dale and Glenn set up some sleeping bags, lying down to try and catch a few hours of sleep. Neither of them slept, however. They lay awake, Dale moving over to Andrea to keep her company while Glenn laid silent and listened.

A few sleepless hours later, the clear cry of a newborn baby filled the air. Glenn abruptly sat up, eyes wide. He scrambled over to the open vent, pressing his ear against it. From inside, he could hear heavy panting over the few cries that followed, quickly silenced by a soft rustling and a few words from Logan that he couldn't decipher. He held his breath, waiting, not even noticing the others that were crowded around him.

"It's a boy," he heard Logan say.

Glenn, Andrea, and Dale all exhaled at the same time, glancing at each other in complete wonder. They pressed closer, trying to hear more. There was some more rustling and snipping, the sound of something being cut.

"You did well, Emrys," Logan said.

"How are you feeling?" Avi added.

"Like I just got hit by a train," Emrys groaned.

Glenn sat back on his heels, eyes wide as he breathlessly thought through what had just happened. Emrys had given birth to a boy, a son and Emrys had made it through. Glenn nearly danced for joy, settling instead for a wide grin. He glanced up at Daryl, whose expression was unreadable in the darkness. The older man was standing off to the side, turned only slightly towards Glenn. His crossbow was in hand and loaded, hanging limply from his hand at his side.

As Glenn stood, Daryl stepped over to him, his face largely shadows. Glenn's grin didn't diminish as he embraced his lover, hugging him tightly. Slowly, Daryl reached up and began running his fingers through Glenn's soft, dark hair. He rested his chin against the crown of the smaller man's head, breathing in the smell of dirt, gasoline, and leaves with a hint of the tang of walker blood.

"We're going to make it," he whispered quietly in Glenn's ear. "Everything will be alright."

Glenn nodded against the taller man's neck, closing his eyes. Below them, a happy family of three embraced on the small twin bed in the back of Dale's RV, the new baby nestled in his blond father's grasp.

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**(1): Again, this is supposedly Welsh for 'shit'. I'm sorry if it is incorrect. I don't actually speak Welsh unfortunately. My realm is Spanish and English at this point.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: And here is the newest chapter. The ending of this one may surprise you a bit, but it was a plot device that needed to be done. It may seem to come from out of nowhere, but it was important and I didn't want to do it in a way where everyone knew exactly how it happened. Glenn and Daryl had nothing to do with the event so it won't really be a plot part that is narrated. Anyway, REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 14

The following morning, everyone was gathered outside of the RV at first light. Daryl, who was surprisingly alert for an over 24 hour stretch with no sleep or coffee, and Glenn were standing watch, while the others stood below. Even Shane was waiting, leaning up against the side of SUV as they all waited for Emrys and Avi to emerge. Tasha was tapping her foot anxiously as Lance paced in the background. Logan had already left the RV to take a nap in the front of his truck, exhausted from the night before. They didn't bother him despite their nervousness.

Finally, the door opened and everyone looked up. Emrys came out first, his blond hair wild and his eyes lightened with joy. He seemed tired, dark circles appearing under his eyes, but happy. His heavy stomach was gone, hidden under the loose, waving fabric of Avi's shirt. He still wore his signature jeans rolled up at his ankles, but now they were held up by a thick belt that was fastened at its tightest. A thick sweater was set over his shoulders to keep out the January chill. In his arms was his son, wrapped in a soft, and strangely clean, white blanket.

Tasha ran over first, practically cooing over the baby nestled into the blankets. Emrys and Avi were grinned with pride as the woman took their son from them, watching as she rocked him back and forth. The others all gathered around as Glenn and Daryl stepped over to the edge of the RV, watching.

"He's beautiful," Tasha murmured.

The baby squirmed and moaned, wrinkling his nose as his eyes opened. They were the signature bright baby blue color, round like Avi's, but rimmed with thick lashes like Emrys's. Gone was the bluish hue of a newborn, replaced by the signature pale skin color of northern Europe with the faint blush of life dusting just along his cheekbones. One hand was clenched in the edge of the blanket, pulling at it lightly as he squirmed in Tasha's grasp. Part of the blanket fell back to reveal a few wisps of dark hair.

"Who's family does he favor?" Carol asked.

"Dark hair is from Avi clearly," Lori said.

"But the skin color is Emrys," Carol replied.

Emrys and Avi were too proud of their son to stop the two women as they argued over the baby's appearance. Daryl rolled his eyes and went back to watching out for walkers. Glenn shot the older man a glance over his shoulder, but unlike his lover, he turned to look at the group below.

As Emrys and Avi continued to show off their son, Glenn laid a hand on his stomach, his grin widening. He felt secure now, safer than he'd ever been since the dead started walking. Emrys had survived the nine months of carrying his child. He had survived the birth. Now, he had a beautiful son that he was showing off to everyone, a son that, if Glenn's and Logan's hypotheses were correct, would be immune, just like Emrys –and Glenn- were. If they were right, Emrys's son and Glenn's child would never have to worry about being bit and facing the terror and horror that followed.

"What's his name?" Andrea asked from below.

Glenn focused back on Emrys as the blond man spoke.

"Idris Baum," Avi answered, wrapping his arms around Emrys's shoulders.

"Idris? Is it Welsh?" Lori asked.

Emrys nodded. "It was my brother's name."

No one dared ask why his brother was mentioned in past tense. They'd all lost people, even before the apocalypse and they all hated talking about it. There was Lori, Carol, and Rick's parents, Shane's sister, T-Dog's girlfriend, and Dale's wife. Lance's mom and dad had been dead for years, leaving his aunt and uncle, Tasha's parents, to raise him instead, both of whom they lost contact with in the few days after the reports became common and widespread. Ed. The Morales family. Sofia. Jacqui. Amy. Glenn's parents. Merle. Anna's entire family. Everyone had lost someone.

Squirming and fidgeting, Idris started to whimper. With a smile, Emrys reached out and took his son from Tasha. The baby wiggled against his chest, fingers unclenching around the edge of the blanket.

"He's hungry," Emrys murmured before he turned and disappeared into the RV, whispering something to his son.

Avi reluctantly stepped away, wandering off with Rick and T-Dog to discuss their next move. Everyone began to disperse, going about their specific jobs. Carol and Lori went back to washing what clothes they could while Shane and Lance started going through the cars with Andrea. Carl was playing nearby, glancing every few minutes back at the RV.

"I'll take over for you guys," Anna said as she climbed up onto the roof of the RV.

"You sure?" Glenn asked.

"Yeah, we're okay up here," Daryl added.

"Go sleep, you redneck ass," Anna snarled playfully, shooing the two men away. "Besides, I think Emrys will want to talk to you, Glenn."

Frowning, the smaller man quickly descended from the top of the RV, carefully stepping onto the concrete below. Daryl was right behind him, jumping off easily and landing on his feet before following him into the RV. While Daryl busied himself finding a blanket, Glenn walked to the back of the RV and knocked on the wooden door of the closet. A blanket hung from a wire that had been stretched over the open space that led into the back room, blocking his view.

"Come in," Emrys said.

Pushing aside the curtain, Glenn stepped in and pulled it closed behind him. He turned to Emrys, who lay on the bed, and nearly gasped at the sight.

He had pulled off his shirt and lay it over his lap as he reclined against the pillows that lined the small bunk. A small towel hung from Emrys's bare shoulder, falling halfway down his chest. Idris was lying in his arms, the blanket still tightly wrapped around him. The baby was attached to one of Emrys's nipples, suckling quietly.

Glancing up at him, Emrys smirked and motioned for Glenn to sit beside him. Slowly, the Asian man stepped over to his friend and sunk to the floor, sitting on the back of his heels. Idris continued to feed, hardly disturbed at all by the new presence.

"A little shocked, are you?" Emrys teased as he glanced down at his son, running his fingers through the few, fine dark hairs.

"Well yeah. This isn't something you usually see," Glenn choked.

Emrys laughed and fixed him with a playful stare. "You should get used to seeing it. You'll be doing it soon enough."

Gulping, Glenn nodded and looked down at his belly, which was starting to round out. Emrys followed his gaze and sighed softly. He reached for Glenn's hand, gripping it tightly when the Korean offered his.

"You'll get through it and when it's over, you and Daryl will have a wonderful baby," Emrys said comfortingly.

Glenn nodded enthusiastically, his eyes softening. "We talked about it a little last night. Daryl said that we would make it work, that we would survive somehow."

The blond man grinned widely. "Good, I'm glad he sees it that way."

They were silent for a moment before Emrys asked, "Do you want to know why I named him Idris?"

"After your brother, right?"

"Yes. It's a family name that has been passed down on my mother's side for the last three hundred years. Every generation, there has been an Idris and it's always the firstborn son, except for mine, that is."

"Why?" Glenn asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"I was the second child of three, all boys," Emrys explained. "The Idris that my son is named after was the youngest of us."

"But I thought-"

Emrys held up his hand, asking for silence.

"Our older brother was originally named Idris. He was two years older than me, but we were not really close. He was my mother's favorite, as he was the one named Idris. When I was ten and he was twelve, he died. It was a car accident. He and my father went into town one afternoon and they crashed, hit another car straight on. My older brother died and my father got away with scratches," he said.

Glenn listened intently, eyes widening slightly.

"After that, my parents argued a lot and eventually, they divorced when I was fifteen. If the court had had its way, I probably would have ended up living with my mom. Thankfully though, they let me stay with my father. He and I get along much better than I ever did with my mother. I just wasn't Idris," he sighed.

In Emrys's lap, the baby let out a soft whimper and the blond man gently pulled his son away from his nipple, switching to the other one. Settling back against the pillows once again, he rocked his son back and forth as the baby snuggled against him and began suckling once again.

"I spent the next few years doing exactly as I had before. I helped my father with the farm, planting, harvesting, taking care of the horses, and things like that. I went to school and studied all I could. My father encouraged me. Even though I loved living there and it was a great place to grow up, he knew I didn't want to stay on the farm forever like he had. When the time came, I moved out and went to Oxford where I studied literature and practically anything they would let me," Emrys continued, laughing a little at the memory.

"A few days before I graduated from university, a man came to my apartment, asking if he could talk to me. His name was Reece Wilson, a lawyer from northern Wales. We sat down at the tiny table in my tiny apartment and he pulled out a file from his briefcase. Inside was a picture of a young boy, no older than seven or eight years old. The boy had been in a foster home for the past year or so as the officials tried to find any possible family that he might have."

Emrys sighed, eyes clouding slightly.

"Eventually, through my mother, they traced him back to me. He was my half-brother. Apparently after she left the farm, my mother got married not long after and had a son. She'd named him Idris."

"But your brother was her first-born, not him," Glenn murmured in confusion.

Laughing, Emrys nodded as his son released his nipple and nestled against his father's chest, eyes closing. Glancing down, Emrys ran a hand over his back as he set the infant against his shoulder. The baby let out a small burp, some milk dribbling out onto his chin. With a smile, Emrys wiped it away lovingly, setting the baby down on the bed against his side as he fell asleep, bright blue eyes closing. Emrys rubbed his pale stomach lightly in a soothing way.

"According to Mr. Wilson, she didn't want to remember her previous marriage or her older sons, the first Idris or me. That's why she gave my younger brother the name. She wanted a new start, a new Idris and that is what she got," Emrys explained.

"That's just…"

"Cruel, I know, but I hadn't seen her in the nine, ten years before she died. My younger brother's father wasn't in the picture as far as I am aware when she died, either. I agreed to meet him, the new Idris and when I did a few days later, I knew that it was my job as his brother to make sure he turned out alright," Emrys said slowly.

"Mom had screwed him up with her overbearing, obsessive nature. He didn't want a brotherly figure, especially not in me. When he was a kid, she used to tell him about me and Father, how we'd ruined her life and stole Idris, the older one, away from her. He wanted nothing to do with me for the first few months that we lived together. Eventually though, we became close, much closer than my older brother and I ever had been."

Glenn smiled when he saw the grin on Emrys's face. The blond man seemed genuinely happy as he recalled those days with his younger brother, the second Idris of his generation.

"We became best friends, he and I, despite the age difference. He often had trouble talking to kids his own age so he would spend any free time he had with me. He liked learning anything I had to teach him. Actually, he was the reason I became interested in teaching in the first place," he said.

His smile dropped from his face and he sighed heavily.

"We were a family for only a few years though. When he was thirteen, there was an accident. He was hit by a car, if you can believe it."

He laughed bitterly at the irony.

"The car ran right into him when he was crossing the street. It killed him on impact and when I saw his body in the morgue, his chest was caved in. All of his ribs were broken and the back of his head was cracked open," Emrys said sadly, "But even then, he was my brother and I loved him like he was my son just as much as I did as a brother. So I named my true son in his honor."

Emrys glanced down at his son as he slept, his blue eyes hidden under pale lids and dark eyelashes. The few strands of dark hair were combed over to the right side of his head, the same direction that his face was turned.

"To be honest though, I hope he turned out to be nothing like my younger brothers," Emrys said quietly. "I don't want to be like my mother, giving a beloved son that name just to torture him with the memories of those that had it before him. I want him to know of my family, but I don't want it to consume me."

Standing, Glenn sat next to the blond man on the edge of the bed. Emrys reached down and picked up his son, cradling him for a moment before he held him out to Glenn. Awkwardly, Glenn took the baby in his arms, pulling him to his best. The infant squirmed and cooed as he opened his eyes and looked up at the Asian man. Glenn smiled as Idris waved his hand wildly at him, eyes wide and mouth agape as he let out a soft cry.

"He sure is cute," Glenn laughed.

"Yours will be even more adorable," Emrys replied, "At least to you anyway. Parents usually do. My mother was my mother only by blood and DNA. You and I though… we'll be mothers in more than that."

"I'm not going to be a mother," Glenn said.

"Choose whatever word you want," Emrys chuckled, "You're still the one giving birth."

Glenn rolled his eyes at his friend as Idris settled in his arms, closing his eyes once again. Emrys grinned, watching his sleeping son. The two men sat in silence as the group outside moved about, collecting supplies and whatever else they needed. They glanced out the window of the RV to see Rick and Shane disappear into the trees together, guns out and at the ready. A shiver ran up Glenn's spine as Shane shot a look over his shoulder.

No one else saw the look on Shane's face, no one other than Glenn. The glint in his eyes was unsteady and the downturn to his mouth was firm and angry. His cheeks were flushed and his forehead covered with sweat despite the cold January air. Something was wrong, but Glenn didn't know what.

It was no more than half an hour later that they heard the shot. Panicking, everyone ducked into the vehicles, lying in wait. They ducked under the windows, lifting their heads to check every few minutes for signs of movement. A single walker straggled out onto the road, not even glancing at the cars as it passed and limped into the trees, heading in the direction of the gunshot.

Glenn and Daryl were huddled under the largest window in the side of the RV, Daryl's crossbow in hand. They stared at the door, Daryl's blue eyes focused and clear as they waited. Andrea and Dale were crouched in the front of the RV, both raising their heads occasionally to glance out the front window. From the back, Glenn could just hear Idris's soft cooing.

Tense moments passed when they heard a shout from outside. Andrea and Dale scrambled up, Daryl sneaking forward to kneel beside them, eyes narrowing at the sight outside. He motioned for Glenn to stay put as the older man sneaked over to the door, pushing it open slightly. Slipping out, he disappeared from view to greet the familiar voice from outside.

Glenn stayed where he was until the door swung open again, Daryl standing in the doorway. He shot a silent glance at the others in the RV before disappearing outside again. As he stood and followed his lover, Glenn blinked his eyes against the harsh light of the afternoon sun. His eyes widened when he saw Rick and Daryl, who stood at the edge of the road.

Daryl had his crossbow in hand, finger tight against the trigger. Rick had his hands at his side, gun in the holster at his hip. Blood coated his shirt and was splattered across his face, the red liquid thick and new. His cotton shirt was dripping with it, heavy dots falling onto the knees of his tan pants.

"What happened?" Lori asked as she jogged over, Carl right at her heels. "Where's Shane?"

Rick's breath caught in his throat and he seemed to choke as he tried to speak. Everyone gathered around him, Avi and Emrys standing a little behind the others as Idris napped against his blond father's chest. Again Rick opened his mouth to speak and he finally found the words he was looking for.

"Shane's dead, he's dead. We were out in the woods and couple of walkers came our way. We managed to kill most of them by smashing their heads open, but one… one of them snuck up on us. It got Shane, bit him right on the arm," he said, his voice shaking.

"Then that gunshot-"

Dale was quickly interrupted by Rick.

"He asked me to shoot him in the head. He'd already killed the walker that bit him."

Lori let out a quiet sob as she turned away, Carl dragging behind her. Rick padded after his wife, trying to comfort her in her grief. Glenn glanced up at Daryl as they all dispersed to their vehicles, thinking about what they had just been told. The older man's face was expressionless, but his eyes were cold and thoughtful.

"Something isn't right. Those bloodstains don't match his story," Daryl murmured.

"You don't think that Rick-"

"No, if anyone instigated anything, it would have been Shane. I would bet you that Walsh got whatever he disserved."

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**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Happy that Shane is dead? Review.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: They're going to reach the prison in this chapter! There has been a bit of a time skip because the real meat of this story happens leading up to and after the baby's birth. There's some fluff and some angst/anger on Glenn's part. REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 15

That winter was one of the coldest ones Glenn remembered since moving to Georgia nearly seven years earlier, just days after graduating from high school. There were no snowdrifts to contend with and the rivers would freeze over only occasionally over night, but it was still bitter cold, especially for a state that was usually soaked in bugs and sweat. Even Daryl shook a little from the cold under the heavy poncho that he'd found in an abandoned house that they'd scavenged through over three months earlier, when the winter has first arrived. It was nothing compared to the winters in Michigan where he'd grown up, but Glenn now knew that even a Southern state like Georgia could muster up a fierce wind.

A shiver ran through his body as he stared down at the hose in his cold, shaking hand. He hunched his shoulders against the frozen wind that beat against his back, pulling his elbows as tightly as he could against his side. In his heavy combat boots, he curled his toes to try and bring them closer to the warm arch of his foot. His other hand was stuffed into the pocket of the light coat that hung down to his mid-thigh. The fumes that rose from the canister he was siphoning gas into made him cough slightly, his hot breath condensing to a thick cloud that rose around his face and momentarily warmed his frozen cheeks.

He lifted his dark eyes to gaze around him. T-Dog was a few cars ahead, rubbing his hands together wildly before picking up a full canister of gas that would be reserved for Daryl's new bike.

He had left Merle's when they had escaped from the Compound, but that didn't stop Daryl from finding another one. Glenn had nearly ended up on the floor from laughing so hard when he saw Daryl ride it for the first time. It wasn't that Daryl didn't look good riding it; it was just that the bike was a black and red Kawasaki. When he asked Daryl about it later that night, the older man just replied that it simply "worked better with how his life was now." His lover never ceased to surprise him that was for sure.

When the canister was full, Glenn carefully set it on the ground as the weight becoming too much for him. He sighed with annoyance, sliding the hose out of the container as he waited for T-Dog to come back and retrieve the container. Rolling up the hose, Glenn set it over his shoulder and trekked back to their vehicles. T-Dog shot him a thumbs up as they passed each other, the larger man giving Glenn a heavy slap on the shoulder.

He glanced ahead to see Lori standing outside the RV with Indris awake in her arms. She handled the baby skillfully as he waved his tiny fists and cooed at her, but she was staring ahead into the trees, completely ignoring the infant. Glenn felt a flash of anger rush through him, but he bit it back. He knew that it was the hormones affecting him, but Lori had begun grating on Glenn's nerves ever since Shane's death.

To be honest, no one had been all that affected by Shane's death other than Lori. Even Carl had seemed very calm about it. It had taken Rick a few days to get over the death of his best friend and former partner, but now, another three months later, he never even mentioned Shane. Lori was the only one who seemed to mourn the impossibly bull-headed ass that had been Shane Walsh. Sometimes, when he couldn't sleep and he went up onto the roof of the RV to keep watch with Daryl, he would hear her crying. He only knew it was her for sure because Carol had asked him about it a few days after the first time he'd heard it.

Stalking over to her, Glenn tapped the older woman on the shoulder. She jerked out of her thoughts and turned to him, eyes wide and doe-like. Glenn motioned to the baby in her arms and she nodded, handing the blond baby over to the Asian man. Her eyes glazed over once with that dark emotion as Glenn settled Idris in his arms.

Glenn snarled silently at her back as she meandered away. Her depression was reaching the realm of the ridiculous. They were all trying to survive at this point. There was a nursing Galahad, his son, and two pregnant members who were both nearly seven months along in their group and the herds of walkers were growing bigger. They could not afford to be careless, even with the immunity of the two Galahads.

Lori was being everything but careful. She barely even really seemed to notice her pregnancy, even as she grew bigger. Many times, Glenn would see her staring off into the distance, not eating the meals they brought her. Since they couldn't preserve food that had already been cooked, several of her meals were thrown out on the side of the road.

Gritting his teeth, Glenn turned away from her and slowly strolled through the wreckage of cars. Idris's blue eyes had closed and he nestled against Glenn's chest, fists curved into the waves of the blanket around him. Glenn absentmindedly started rocking the baby as he walked, the change in his hormone levels drawing up the natural maternal instincts.

He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as the nerves in his feet pounded. In the past few months he had grown heavier and various parts of his body were beginning to ache, mainly his back and his feet. He tried not to complain though. He was still a man and proud of it, even with his swollen stomach. Besides, it wasn't as if they lived in the lap of luxury or security as they had before Atlanta fell. Everyone was tired. Everyone was hungry. Everyone ached from their constant movement. His aches were no different even if they were caused by another thing entirely.

Idris squirming in his arms drew his attention away from his thoughts. He smiled down at the baby and turned around, heading into the RV. Stepping into the back room, he knelt down and laid Idris down in a plastic container. It was fitted with firm cushions along the bottom and the sides, creating a bed for the small baby. Idris cooed quietly as Glenn settled a light blanket over him.

The blue eyes were fixed on him, open wide for a few moments before they started to droop. Slowly, the baby fell asleep as Glenn stood and left the RV, closing the door behind him. He sighed softly into the cold air, tilting his head up to enjoy the faint rays of sunlight that managed to break through the clouds. A stray wind wiggled its way past his jacket, tickling the back of his hands where they were hidden in his sleeves. He shivered slightly, shoving them into his pockets as he went back to work.

Just as he, T-Dog, and Dale were about to begin scavenging for extra parts from the cars, Rick and Daryl exited from the woods, the former sheriff's deputy bounding ahead of the redneck with such excitement that they hadn't seen from him in months. He was grinning widely, his pistol bouncing slightly against his hip as he jogged over. The long-range rifle that he'd come to love was in his hand. Daryl trailed behind him, crossbow over his shoulder and his favorite poncho draped over his shoulders.

Glenn walked over to Daryl as the older man stepped up onto the road. Rick was animatedly telling the others about what they'd found, pointing the rifle back towards the trees behind him. The two lovers stood a little ways off from the others, who were all gathered around Rick. Glenn glanced up at Daryl, curious. His older lover gave nothing away, although the slightly rise of one eyebrow only managed to increase Glenn curiosity.

"We found a prison," Rick said. "There are multiple fences, guard towers, and walls that aren't going to be coming down anytime soon. If we clear the walkers out, it would be perfect. We can't just keep going as we are."

"After what happened to the Compound, we're really going to hole ourselves up like that again?" Dale asked.

"This place is much more heavily fortified than the Compound. There are walkways that stretch across the yards and there are heavy gates, guard towers, and barbed wire. If we can clear out at least one cell block, we should be able to keep it fortified with no problems," Rick replied.

"There may be a cafeteria and medical supplies too if it hasn't been raided yet," Avi added.

"Most of the walkers in the yard were wearing prison jumpsuits. Only the walkers outside the gates were wearing civilian clothes. The prison must have fallen pretty early and it doesn't look like anyone has tried to clean them out yet," Rick said.

"Then we have a good shot of finding something," T-Dog spoke up.

Dale sighed and threw up his hands. "We'd better go look at it at least. I don't see the harm in that."

Rick nodded and stalked off, his body tensing up once again. Glenn watched as he stepped over to Lori, both of them speaking in quiet, but harsh tones as everyone dispersed.

Glenn nearly jumped when he felt something touch his stomach. Glancing down, he recognized Daryl's large, callused hand as it swept up and down his swollen belly a few times, his muscled arm wrapped loosely around Glenn's back. He blushed heavily as the hand retreated and fell to Daryl's side, the older man walking away.

"Definitely not a romantic," Emrys snorted playfully, stepping over to Glenn.

The Asian man's blush grew darker and he coughed to try and cover his nervousness. Emrys laughed and shook his head at the other Galahad.

"You two sleep together every night. You shouldn't be so embarrassed," the blond man said.

"Well yeah," Glenn said slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, "But he's never touched me like that before during the day."

Smirking, Emrys glanced over in the direction that Daryl had gone. "I've noticed, but you should consider yourself lucky. Your redneck may not be as affectionate as Avi is, but he isn't nearly as bad as Rick over there."

"Don't say that, Emrys," Glenn replied. "Rick and Lori are just having a tough time right now."

Emrys fixed his smaller friend with a stare, raising one eyebrow. "If you want to call it that, I guess you could. I'd say that their relationship is unsalvageable at this point. Since when are you jumping to Lori's defense, any way? Just this morning, you were complaining about her."

Glenn gritted his teeth and sighed. "Yes because she doesn't do anything around camp. I swear, she's as useless as a bullet hole shot through a Walker's heart. She's always losing track of Carl and she doesn't even take care of the baby inside her, it seems."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Emrys nodded. "I have to agree, but to be honest, I'm more worried about how it affects the group. It's Lori's choice if she wants to be lazy and not take care of herself, but if she and Rick aren't getting along, it affects all of us."

"Being lazy isn't helping us either," Glenn added.

"Yes, that is true. Thankfully, it seems that Carl is starting to really mature, especially now that he can shoot," Emrys said. "Dale has been teaching him some mechanical stuff just in case too."

Glenn smiled a little, remembering the first time the Dale had offered to teach him. It had been when they were stuck in the graveyard of cars out on the highway, before the herd of walkers and Sofia's disappearance. He remembered the heat that rose from the engine, the vapors choking him slightly and making him cough. The white-haired man had laughed at him, but kept instructing him on all of the components of the RV's engine.

"Come on," Emrys chuckled, patting his friend on the shoulder. "I'm sure there's something we should be doing right now."

They continued to scavenge throughout the morning, syphoning another container full of gas and several new sets of clothing, before they left the small graveyard. Breaking their usual order, the RV took the lead as Andrea was the only one who knew where they were going. The map was spread across her lap, blond strands of hair falling in her eyes as she studied the large square of paper, instructing Dale on where to turn. Logan and his truck came next, followed by Daryl on his new bike. Rick and Anna brought up the rear, Lori sulking in her seat beside her husband.

A few miles up the road, they turned off onto a well-maintained county street, avoiding the cars that were flipped on their backs in the middle of the intersection. As they passed, Glenn could just make out the flies that buzzed around the broken windows of the cars, attracted to whatever dead bodies may still be inside. After several more twists and turns and winding roads, they found the prison.

Rick had been right when he said that it was the perfect fortress. Glenn stared up at the guard towers that stood at the four corners of the giant building. Everything was concrete and strong, colored somewhat dark from use, but still stable. A few walkers, all dressed in civilian clothing, were limping around the perimeter of the first twenty-foot fence, turning their heavy, bloodstained heads as the vehicles approached. Daryl easily dispatched them with his crossbow as the group stopped along the edge of the trees to come up with a plan of attack.

They needed the clear part of the first yard in order to get to the gravel walkways that cut between the yard fences. Once they were inside, they would split into two groups. One would go into the inner yard and clear it out, gaining access to the guard towers before they started clearing out the courtyard at the front of the prison. The other group would stay on the walkway, killing any walkers that got close enough to the fence.

As they started into the prison, Rick and Daryl took the front, as usual, with Emrys not far behind.

The Galahad had regained much of the gaunt appearance that Avi claimed him to have had before his pregnancy, partly due to the heavy weapon that he preferred to use. Glenn had been shocked the first time he'd seen Emrys use the five-foot long broadsword that Logan had stashed in the back of his truck when the Compound was overrun. Emrys was not a muscular man by any means, tiny when compared to Daryl or Avi, but he swung that sword like it was a toothpick.

It was a family heirloom, purchased by some ancient grandfather of his from some trader in exchange for food and shelter during a terribly rough winter. Emrys's family, however, had kept it sharp and useable, passing it down along the male line until it came into Emrys's possession. For the first time in nearly a hundred and fifty years, it was being put to good use.

Emrys swung skillfully at a walker that got too close, cutting cleanly through its forehead. He didn't even glance back as he surged forward, keeping in step with Rick as the other man shot down any walkers from up ahead. Avi wasn't far behind with T-Dog at his side, both of them brandishing knives and heavy pipes that had been sharpened to become effective tools of death.

When they made it to the walkway, they stopped, waiting for the others to catch up. Glenn and Anna were the last inside, quickly shutting the gate and securing it with some wires that they'd salvaged from some car wreck. When the pregnant Galahad and the small woman made it to the group, Rick seemed to breath a sigh of relief.

"We'll split up here," he said. "Everyone knows what they're doing?"

They nodded and everyone sprung into action. The yard was cleared in a manner of minutes, Anna and Lance having made it up into the guard tower without trouble. They shot down at the walkers that were making their way towards Rick as he made his way across the yard, T-Dog, Daryl, Emrys and Avi behind him.

Glenn tried not to look up, to see where Daryl was, fighting the instinct. He began stabbing at the walkers that approached the fences on either side of them, grabbing at the links and growling. Blood flew and landed on his face and hand as his knife cut into the heads of the walkers. Only when they heard Rick shout for them ten minutes later did Glenn finally raise his gaze.

Rick and the others were waving to them from the open gate that led into the prison courtyard, guns raised above their heads and dead bodies at their feet. Daryl was just behind them, gripping at the crossbow that was strapped to his back. Although it was hard to see from that distance, Glenn could tell that the older man's blue eyes were focused on him. His gaze was too strong, too potent with harsh shards of icy blue for it not to be noticed when it was fixed on someone. Even Glenn, who admitted that he had never been the most observant of people, could feel it from nearly five hundred feet away.

They spent the rest of the day clearing the rest of the prison and moving their possessions into Cell Block C. As he was helping to clear out the RV, Glenn managed to catch a glance of some of the former prisoners that Rick and Daryl found locked in the cafeteria. From what Dale had told him, there had been two others, but both were dead. The blond looked nice enough, soft and quiet. Even the black guy, who was nearly as big as Avi, didn't seem like much of a threat. They didn't know anything about the walkers. What harm could they really do?

The only downside was that Daryl refused to sleep in a cell and the guard tower had too many steps and was too narrow for Logan to deem it safe for Glenn. It was the first time that they had slept apart in months, since they had arrived at the Compound.

Glenn barely slept at all, his eyes open and staring at the shadows on the wall of the cell as the moon moved through the sky. Dale's soft snores vibrated off the walls, echoing through the silent prison, but that wasn't what kept him awake. He missed the heavy arm over his waist, the muscled chest that he usually slept on, and the hot crotch that his ass had become used to being settled against. Midway through the night, he had to turn onto his back to ease some of the strange feeling of loss and abandonment. He knew that his back wasn't going to appreciate it in the morning, but being sore was better than suffering for the remainder of the dark hours.

Just before sunrise though, just as his eyes were beginning to droop closed, a figure appeared in the doorway of his cell. Glenn fought to keep his eyes open as he turned onto his side, groaning softly as his back protested the movement. Large hands settled on his shoulder and lower back, helping him. A heavy body slid into the bed beside him, settling one hand on Glenn's hip as he pushed his crotch up harshly against Glenn's ass, grinding his hips. Glenn bit back a groan, clutching his hand over his mouth as the large hand gripped his waist tightly, pulling the smaller man back against the enthusiastic thrusts.

"I missed you," Glenn whispered as quietly as he could, gritting his teeth.

Daryl snorted behind him and said nothing, but his large hand squeezed harder for just a moment, giving his silent response. Glenn smiled a little as he closed his eyes, wiggling against his larger lover. The older man nipped at the back of his bared neck, pulling him closer as they drifted off to sleep.

Glenn didn't even notice that one hand had slipped under his body and was wrapped up, hand resting on his swollen stomach. As the sun began to rise, the other slipped from his hip to complete a circle around his waist.

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**Like it? Love it? Review!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Alright, we're finally at the prison. Shit is gonna get real now! I changed a little bit of the original story here so don't freak out anyone. I just feel that this change needed to be made. It's pretty important for the rest of the story and for me personally. REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 16

They stood in front of the twin graves, silent and unmoving. A soft breeze filtered through the yard, pulling at their dirty, blood stained clothes. The sun was setting, throwing gold light across the field. Outside the fence, walkers were stumbling about and moaning. A couple would occasionally stop and pick at the fence, their moans rising into loud growls. Eventually, they would become bored and wander off once again. Those that stood in the field, the living, ignored the walkers completely. The tall grass around their feet swayed and rustled as they stared down at the newly turned soil and tried not to think about those they had lost.

No one, however, was crying. Their eyes were wet, but their cheeks were mostly dry, wetted only by splatters of blood from earlier kills. While they all were hurting, they had become immune to the idea of death. It was a constant in their lives, indistinguishable from every day activities.

Glenn and Daryl stood at the edge of the group, the Southern man standing so close to his lover that they touched shoulders. Although his blue eyes were focused on the ground, he was as watchful as ever, listening carefully for any signs of impending danger. His arms were tensed, one hand clenched around the strap that held the crossbow to his back. The other hand was twitching and fingering the pommel of the buck knife that hung at his belt.

Tearing his eyes away from the ground, Daryl looked over at his lover. Glenn was gently clutching at his heavy stomach, fingers digging into the once white fabric of his long-sleeved shirt. His jaw was set and clenched, his teeth digging harshly into each other. He seemed lost, his expression both saddened and confused at the same time. His brown eyes were downturned and unblinking, his youthful cheeks and mouth sagging from sorrow.

Inching a little closer to his younger lover, the Southern man took Glenn's thin hand in his, squeezing lightly. When the smaller man lifted his head, Daryl moved again and stepped behind Glenn. Reaching around, he gently set his hands on the curve of Glenn's swollen stomach, curling his fingers over the bulge possessively. He glanced around, searching to see if anyone had noticed.

His eyes narrowed when he saw the two inmates standing at the innermost fence around the prison. Their fingers were curled in the fence links and their jumpsuits were zipped up to keep out the cold. He snarled at them silently as they stared down at the grieving group. Neither of them seemed all that bad, clueless and useless, but not bad. The blond one, Axel if he remembered correctly, kept trying to offer them his services, whether it was a repair on his bike or guarding the walls. It was pathetic really. The other one, the big guy, he knew it too and had pointed it out to him several times.

Daryl, however, knew that he should never become too comfortable with anyone outside of their group. They -Rick, Andrea, and the others- had earned his trust. Daryl trusted them with his life, Glenn's life, and their child's life. These inmates though had not earned that from him.. They were still a threat, even if they acted so docile and trained. People, no matter what their size or attitude, could do anything when put into a stressful situation. Who knows? That little blond man could be the most heinous murderer in the entire South.

Looking away, Daryl focused back on the graves again. Carl was kneeling in front of one, the cavalry hat settled in his lap. Rick, however, was nowhere to be found. He'd stormed off into the prison after he'd found out what had happened.

They had gone down into the lower cellblocks to clear out the attacking walkers. Daryl, Rick, T-Dog, Carol, and the big inmate had gone one way, separating themselves from Glenn and the others. They were drenched in walker blood, cutting through the stumbling forms with efficiency and skill. Even the inmate seemed to be getting the hang of it. When they'd found the open gate, closed it, and killed all of the walkers, there had been a shared moment of triumph.

Then they had learned that it had been that younger man, Andrew, who let the walkers into the prison. He had opened the gate and placed the food in the open doorway to attract them. The big man had shot him, killed him. Good move on his part. If he hadn't killed the kid, Daryl would have stabbed him in the back of the skull with his buck knife. As he'd walked past the body of the kid, Daryl had given it a quick kick in the side and a snarl. Stupid bastard.

When they reached the surface, they found everyone in the front courtyard, gathered in a loose circle. Glenn had been standing off to the side, his back turned to the others and looking out past the fences. The others were all staring at their feet and talking quietly.

Then came the cry of the baby, the new baby.

"Where's Lori?" Rick asked, excitedly stepping over to Emrys, who was holding the newest addition to the Grimes family.

He'd stopped in his tracks and looked around when he noticed the saddened looks on their faces. Daryl watched from the sidelines as Carl told his father what had happened, how the baby wasn't coming correctly and how Logan had been forced to cut Lori open, but couldn't save her. The kid's voice was cold and dead when he stated the ugliest truth of all: that he'd shot his mother in the head.

As Rick had broken into tears and cries of grief, Daryl had moved his focus entirely on Glenn. Since Lori's death, Glenn hadn't let go of his bulging stomach, not even in sleep. He was nervous, worried, and terrified. Logan said that he would be giving birth soon, that he had conceived probably only days after the Grimes woman. His turn to feel the pain and force a new human from his body was coming soon and it was more dangerous than it had ever been.

There were no hospitals. They had a trained surgeon, but not even he could save Lori. Accidents happened and things went wrong. It was a fact of life, but next time, it could be the child that died, rather than the parent.

"They both died saving another," Andrea murmured, bringing Daryl back to the present.

"Bravery in death is the best death," Emrys replied as Idris napped in his arms.

"Lori Grimes and Carol Peletier," Lance said.

Lance stepped forward, a piece of charcoal from their fire two nights before in his hand. He knelt down in between the new graves and wrote the names on the two women on the wooden crosses. Finishing with a flourish, he stood and stepped back, letting the light fall across the graves once again.

"I can't believe that she let me go through that gate ahead of her," T-Dog murmured. "Carol saved my life."

"And we're all grateful for it, even if she had to sacrifice her life to do it," Logan said.

Daryl had to agree, despite the lack of sentimentality in his reasoning. Although he had trusted Carol, he hadn't known her all that well. She had tried to talk to him several times, offer some offhanded advice that he hadn't needed or wanted. Besides, she was a horrible shot, nearly took off Rick's foot when they were clearing the yard of the prison. T-Dog was a better guard and more skilled with weapons of various types. Daryl believed that the heavily muscled black man could and would defend Glenn and their son until he was torn apart by walkers and eaten.

Perhaps Carol would have done the same, but she would have gone down a whole lot faster.

As they turned around and headed back towards the prison, Glenn whispered, "Where's Rick?"

"I don't know. I think he's down in the lower cellblocks," Daryl replied.

"He shouldn't be down there by himself," the smaller man said. "It's not safe."

"It's best to leave him be. Grief can drive men crazy sometimes and you don't want to get between a crazy man and his grief," the Southern man whispered back, growling under his breath.

Glenn nodded reluctantly as his lover let him inside. They headed back to Cellblock C, Daryl ignoring the worried glances that some of the others were throwing his direction. Even Logan, who opened his mouth to speak to the rushing Southern Man, was pushed aside as Daryl ushered Glenn towards his cell. Only when Glenn was on the bed and covered with a blanket did Daryl even consider looking or paying attention to anyone else.

As he left the cell, Emrys moved to take his place beside Glenn on the bed. Idris had woken and was cooing at his father, clutching the front of his shirt. Emrys tried to quiet him while Daryl moved to address the group.

"Well, it's best if we just keep cleaning out the cellblocks and all that," he said awkwardly, unused to the pressure of leadership.

"What about the baby?" Andrea asked, motioning to Tasha, who held the baby in her skilled arms.

"I have more than enough milk to feed her," Emrys spoke up. "It won't be a problem."

"I don't see a problem with it," Logan replied when everyone turned to him for guidance. "Children have breastfed from mo- parents other than their biological mothers for centuries. It used to be common among the upper classes in Europe. Sometimes the women would be caring for and feeding multiple children at once."

Just then, the baby, a little girl, let out a wail. In an effort to hold his infant sister, Carl took her from Tasha and carried her into Glenn's cell, exchanging the small baby for a much larger Idris. As Emrys lay back, he pulled his shirt open and began coaxing the baby to feed. From where he rested beside the blond Welshman, Glenn watched as the infant girl fed from the older man, suckling quietly after getting used to the idea.

"What do we want to do about Rick? No one has seen him since we this morning," T-Dog said.

"Leave him be for a bit," Daryl replied.

"Why? He needs to know that we're here for him," Lance argued.

"He just lost his wife. We should give him some space," Logan added, seconding Daryl's decision.

Daryl turned his ice blue gaze to Andrea. The blond woman was staring at her shoes and nodding in agreement, recognizing the pain in Rick as the one that Andrea herself had felt when Amy had died.

"We should starting bringing in more of the supplies from the cars," Anna suggested, speaking for the first time the entire day.

"Um… can we help you?" a timid voice asked.

Everyone turned to see Axel and Oscar –that was the big man's name- standing at the gate at the far end of the cellblock. Axel was clinging to the metal bars, Oscar standing just behind him. They both looked thoroughly uncomfortable and unsure.

"Go back to your cellblock," Daryl snarled. "I'm sure you lot have somethin' to do there."

"We don't want to stay in that cellblock man. It's just cruel havin' us sleep there," Oscar replied.

"We knew those guys. They were good men and they all died there," Axel added. "It's like trying to sleep in a graveyard."

"Get used to it. You're lucky you're not on the outside. Shit has gone to fuckin' hell out there," Daryl snapped.

Axel deflated in on himself, his small form becoming even tinier than it already was. His blond mustache seemed to droop from disappointment while Oscar shook his head and tried to argue back.

"Look man, we gave you-"

"Just stop, both of you," Emrys said from his seat beside Glenn.

Handing the newborn over to Glenn and buttoning his shirt, Emrys stood and exited the cell. His bright eyes were cold and solid, fierce as he took in the group before him and the two men on the other side of the gate. The Welshman stood tall as he addressed them.

"We would appreciate the help. There can never be too many helping hands when the world has ended. While I am not comfortable with you two moving into our cellblock-"

He held up a hand to cut off Oscar when he opened his mouth to reply.

"I'm not finished. Despite my misgivings, I think it's best if everyone is kept together. Better defenses that way. If walkers manage to find their way in again, I'd rather have two extra men capable of taking them out than being overrun," the blond man continued. "We'll share food and living space as long as you two agree to a peaceful coexistence. Agreed?"

Axel nodded vigorously, a wide and brilliant grin breaking out on his face. Oscar, who was eyeing Daryl warily, also consented before both men were let into the cellblock. Emrys began dividing up the jobs, delegating what each person should do. Logan, Lance, Dale, and Tasha were put in charge of clearing out the RV. Anna and Daryl continued clearing and burning the bodies of walkers from the inner yards while Avi, Andrea and the inmates cleared the other vehicles. Those that remained started to pick through what they could find in the prison.

Despite Logan's protests, even Glenn decided to help, searching through the shelves in the infirmary with Carl. His stomach felt heavy and his entire body seemed to ache, but he refused to sit by while the others worked to make their new home. He was part of the group and he wanted to pull his weight.

He and Carl worked in silence, moving slowly around the large room. Most of the beds had been stripped of their linens and several shelves had been knocked over, probably when the prison had been overrun, but most of the medicine was still salvageable. Glenn hadn't seen this many kinds of pills, remedies, and meds since before Atlanta had fallen.

About half an hour into their search, Carl decided to speak.

"Are you scared?" he asked as he rifled through bottles of aspirin, shoving them into his duffle bag.

Glenn paused, his hand freezing in midair. He glanced over his shoulder at the young boy, staring at the small, thin back. With a sigh, he nodded to himself and said, "Of course I am. We're in a new place. There's always going to be new challenges."

"That wasn't what I meant and you know it," Carl replied.

Glenn smiled a little. "I know. I'd rather not think about it right now."

"Why not? Logan says that we always need to be prepared for anything," the boy murmured.

Letting his hand rest on the edge of a shelf, Glenn wrapped his other one around his bulging stomach. He looked down at it for a moment before his brown eyes slid closed.

"I was always optimistic before. I'd like to keep that as long as possible, for the group as much as myself. Even if I end up dying like your…. mom, I want to do it with a smile on my face and knowing that I led a happy life. Besides, as long as my baby survives, isn't that all that matters?"

"No, it's not!" Carl shouted, spinning around to stare at the young man. "If you're not here, who's going to take care of the baby, protect them?"

"That's why children have two parents, Carl, and family in general. You would all have to take care of my baby, just like we will for your sister," Glenn sighed.

Carl huffed as he turned back to his work, slamming a few bottles of pills into his bag in anger. He shuffled along the shelves, muttering something under his breath. Glenn worked quietly, enjoying the monotony of the work. His mind seemed to numb as the silence stretched out between them, keeping the worst thoughts from the front of his mind.

"I hope you don't die," Carl said in a small voice. "I don't want another kid to be born just for their mother to die."

Glenn nodded in silent agreement as he carried several bottles of medicine over to Carl, stuffing them in the bag. They continued to sort through the room, finding several more blankets and sheets hidden in a closet at the back of the infirmary. Antibiotics seemed to be a surprisingly high quantity, probably because the prison seemed to have been overrun so quickly. They packed rolls upon rolls of fresh bandages into a second bag, adding even a few boxes of plain band aids before Carl carried them back to the cellblock.

Just as the boy left the infirmary, Daryl stepped in, his crossbow over his shoulder and his mind clearly set on finding his lover. Glenn turned towards him and noticed the fiery look on Daryl's face. He waited for the Southern man to approach him, placing one of his hands on the top of his curved belly.

Setting the crossbow aside, Daryl grabbed Glenn and drew him into a hug. Glenn's eyes widened considerably as his usually rough lover embraced him, his callused fingers digging into Glenn's shoulders. With a smile, Glenn hugged him back. His heavy stomach was the only thing that separated the two lovers, pressed gently up against Daryl's abs.

"You're not goin' to die. Do yah hear me?" Daryl snarled in the most loving and protective way possible.

Glenn nodded against his shoulder, letting his eyes fall closed. "I won't. I promise."

"Don't promise me. Just don't do it," the Southern man drawled.

"Whatever you say."

Daryl drew away from him, his mouth set in a firm line. Glenn chuckled at his lover's expression, noticing the faint blush that adorned his cheekbones. Shifting uncomfortably, Daryl gave him a curt nod before picking up his crossbow and storming off. Watching him go, Glenn grinned widely and shook his head.

"Dumb ass."

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**Yes, I killed Carol. I hate her. I hate her character to DEATH (haha irony). I see no value in her character at all except to be fan service to DarylxCarol shippers. She does absolutely nothing really. In the end, she doesn't even end up giving Lori the C-Section in the show. Maggie does. Carol also almost shot Rick in the foot during that first episode of season 3. 8 months later and she still doesn't know how to aim... wow. So yeah, she's dead. T-Dog may not have many lines in the show, but I liked him a hell of a lot more than Carol. Okay, rant over. **

**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Review 'cause it helps me keep writing.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: So much excitement in this chapter (and who can guess what it is?!). It should be clear if you've read this story at all. Anyway, I hope you all like it cause I think it's one of my best chapters. Enjoy! REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 17

A week later, they were well established in the prison. They had placed all of their possessions into the small rec room at the end of the cellblock and the two inmates had moved into two cells on the floor above them. The entire prison had been cleared of walkers and sealed off, although Daryl and the others took turns checking all of the entrances leading into the other cellblocks as a precaution.

Rick had returned from his rampage, but he was still mentally unhinged. Whenever anyone tried to bring up Lori in front of him, he snapped. Usually, this scene ended with someone on the floor, either their mouth or nose bloody. Rick would then storm off and lock himself in his cell for the remainder of the night.

In his absence, Daryl and Emrys had agreed to share the leadership role, dividing up Rick's previous jobs. Everyone had picked up the slack, pushing themselves even further to the brink of exhaustion now that they had a permanent residence for the cool nights. Carl, Glenn, and Emrys took turn taking care of the baby –Judith, as Carl had named her- and Idris, although, due to his condition, it was Glenn who spent the most time with the two infants.

He enjoyed the time spent in his small cell, Idris set on a mat on the floor so he could play with his toys while Judith slept on his bed or in Glenn's arms. Idris was five months old now and very energetic, much more so than the rest of the group. He'd learned how to sit up on his own not long after they had arrived at the prison and Idris guessed that he would start crawling soon.

The cell was the best place to keep the babies. If walkers managed to get into the cellblock, the cells were the easiest places to defend. The metal bars were too strong for them to break through and the doors could be easily locked without trouble. Besides, when Idris did start crawling, the cell door would keep him from wandering around under people's feet.

Sitting back against the stone wall, Glenn sighed and pulled a sleeping Judith close to his chest. She whimpered softly before snuggling against his chest and falling asleep again. Idris was on his mat, waving around a stuffed toy and cooing loudly. He let out a giggle as he turned to look at Glenn, recognizing one of his favorite caretakers. Glenn grinned back at the baby, shifting Judith in his arms.

"You'll be a handful," he predicted as he stared at the infant boy on the mat.

Idris seemed to giggle in agreement, letting the toy fall into his lap. Hearing someone coming, the infant turned his head to see Emrys appear in the doorway. Idris squealed loudly at his father and held out his arms, already recognizing it as the universal signal for being carried. Emrys laughed and scooped up his son, setting the baby against his hip.

"I was wondering if you wanted to bring them outside for a little while. Everyone else is out there and the clouds are pretty thick today. Their skin won't become so irritated," the blond Welshman said.

"I'd love you," Glenn replied, glancing down at the baby in his arms. "But to be honest, I don't know if I can really get up right now."

"You're back still hurting?" Emrys asked, frowning.

Glenn nodded. "More so than normal. I've been feeling little sharp pains since last night. Logan thinks that my time is approaching."

Emrys's eyes widened and he nodded. "You'd best stay in bed then. Do you want me to take Judith?"

"Only if you can manage," Glenn said.

"I'll go get Carl. I'm sure he'd love some time with his sister and Tasha adores her to death. I'll send Logan in, as well. He should probably stay close," the other man murmured, quickly leaving the cell with his cooing son in his arms.

Glenn relaxed against the wall, hissing in pain as a sharp pain ran through his back. He groaned and glanced down at Judith, rocking her slowly just above his heavy, swollen stomach. She shifted in her sleep, her fingers curling and uncurling as he rocked her. Glenn's gaze softened as he stared down at her.

He knew that he would be happy with either, but he really hoped for a little girl. The image of Daryl with a daughter made him smile every time he thought about it. He knew that his lover was fascinated by the baby girl, but had refused to spend much time with her, always wandering off to do some odd job or another that Rick was incapable of doing right now.

Glenn was hardly surprised by his behavior. Since that day in the infirmary, he knew that his lover was worried about him and their baby. Lori's death had rocked them all, Daryl no less than any of the others. He'd seen how Rick had reacted and Glenn knew that Daryl was worried that he would have to face the same situation.

Glenn, though, believed with his entire heart that the baby would be born healthy and that he would survive.

He had heard Lori and Logan talking not long after they had arrived at the prison. She'd known something was wrong; she hadn't felt the baby kick in nearly a week where Judith had always been active before. Lori had known she was likely to die.

At that moment, a familiar feeling rose in his stomach and he smiled, settling his hand over the swollen abdomen that held his child. His baby was kicking with force, almost as though he or she was trying to reassure their father of their presence. As he rubbed, the kicking grew stronger. He jerked from pain when the baby inside of him landed a good hit to his bladder, but he continued to smile. This baby had definitely inherited his or her's father's stubborn side.

"How are the contractions?" Logan asked as he and Carl stepped into the cell.

Glenn looked up at the older man as the young boy took Judith from his arms.

"They're getting stronger, but still spaced pretty far apart," he said. "The baby is restless too."

"I wouldn't be surprised if you had this baby tonight," Logan replied, sitting down on the bed beside Glenn while Carl silently carried his sister away.

A shiver of excitement ran through the smaller man's body. Tonight? His baby could be born this very night? His smile grew into a bright grin at the thought.

"Have you mentioned it to Daryl, yet?" the white haired man asked.

"The birth?"

"If he wants to be here when his baby his born."

Glenn blushed a little, lowering his head as he nodded sheepishly.

"He said he wants to be here. He said, 'I was the one to knock yah up, so I should be the one to hold yahr hand when yah squeeze that brat out of yah'"

Logan and Glenn chuckled together. That certainly sounded like Daryl.

"Good. I'm sure T-Dog wouldn't mind taking his patrol tonight," Logan mused. "Now, before the birth happens, do you have any additional questions for me? I may have only helped one pregnant man through the birth, but I certainly know more than most doctors ever would have."

Shaking his head, Glenn murmured, "Emrys already told me what will happen."

"Alright, but just to be clear. Your baby will be born through your rectum since you don't have a natural birth canal like women do. Just like women do, however, it will take some time for your body to right itself before you can start pushing. We'll keep you walking for this time as it often helps the pain and the process if you are moving."

Glenn cringed, remembering the pain that Emrys had gone through before he'd given birth to Idris.

"When you're ready, we'll let you lie down, but someone is going to help you support your upper body, Daryl probably. It's easier to you're at an angle like that rather than just lying on your back. Now, this birth could take only a few hours, the whole night, or even a day or possibly two. It just depends on the natural progression of things. If we were in a hospital, of course, I would probably have operated if the baby had not been born within at the most twelve hours."

Gulping, Glenn nodded in understanding and rubbed his stomach lightly. The baby kicked again with less force than before and another pain ran through his stomach, making his legs shake violently. His breath caught in his throat and he groaned quietly as he shifted, trying to find a way to get comfortable. Logan grabbed his hand and helped him standing. Taking his arm, Logan led him around the edge of the cell and into the hallway of the cellblock, holding his arm tightly.

When the pain had passed, Glenn laughed, "This baby definitely wants out."

"What makes you say that?" Logan asked as they turned a corner, heading back in the other direction.

"She's been kicking up a storm the past week or so and the contractions are getting worse pretty quickly," Glenn breathed. "Definitely Daryl's kid."

Logan shot him a grin as he led the smaller man around the edge of the hallway again. They did this for a while, Glenn forcing himself to walk even when another contraction hit. Occasionally, Logan would let him stop to rest his aching feet, although he found that the pains in his stomach became even worse when he sat down.

An hour or so into their wanderings, Emrys had come inside with Idris on one hip and Judith in his other arm. Upon seeing the two men, he knew instantly what was going on and had, after setting Idris and Judith inside his cell, rushed back outside to find Daryl and the others. At that moment, a particularly strong contraction had ripped through Glenn's body, making him freeze in place. He shook wildly, gripping Logan's arm and gritting his teeth. A low moan escaped him when he felt another hand, large and callused settle on his clothed shoulder.

Taking Glenn's hands from Logan's arm and setting them on his own, Daryl murmured, "Come on, kid. Let's get that brat out of yah."

Glenn laughed softly as he began walking again, this time with Daryl at his side. The Southern man was surprisingly patient with him, always willing to stop whenever Glenn asked him too.

When the others had come inside a few more hours later, covered in sweat and –in Rick's case- blood, Daryl had growled at them and sent them away. The others had silently moved on to the cellblock they had originally cleared out for Axel and Oscar, bringing Idris and Judith with them so that they wouldn't have to be too close to Glenn when the baby started coming. None of them wanted to be in the same cellblock as Glenn when that time came, leaving only Logan, Emrys, and surprisingly Dale behind to help.

The other older man had said that he thought of Glenn as a son and wanted to assist in the delivery of his grandchild as he'd never been able to do that with a child of his own. Glenn had just smiled and agreed, touched by the other man's love and affection.

Sometime around sunset, Glenn felt that he was ready. Daryl helped him lie down on the mattress that they had pushed onto the floor for the delivery, setting his back against the wall so Glenn could lean against him. The smaller Asian man found that he was extremely uncomfortable in this position, but the heat that emanated from Daryl's chest was comforting.

Emrys and Logan helped him slip off his stretched cotton pants and boxers, throwing a blanket over his bent knees for privacy. Logan ducked under it to check him while Emrys took Glenn's free hand, the other currently squeezing Daryl's. When he came back out, Logan silently nodded to the soon-to-be fathers.

"It's nearly time to start pushing. Glenn, remember to brace yourself against Daryl. He'll help you push," the white haired man said.

Glenn nodded, gritting his teeth as another contraction ripped through him. He squeezed the hands of his lover and friend while Logan and Dale sat silently at his bedside, waiting. Finally, it passed and he fell back against Daryl, groaning.

"How am I going to get through this?" he murmured.

Beside him, Emrys chuckled while Dale cleaned some sweat away from his forehead with a damp cloth.

"You'll do it because if you don't, you won't get to see your baby," the Welshman joked, patting Glenn's arm affectionately. "You will be fine, Glenn."

The smaller man was about to smile at his friend when another contraction roared to life. With a choked scream, he pushed back against Daryl and panted, clenching his stomach muscles. The Southern man pushed forward, bracing him for the pain. Dale continued to pat Glenn's forehead with the damp towel.

When the pain subsided, the older man grinned at Glenn and set the towel aside in the bowl of water, picking up a dry one instead to wipe away any remaining droplets.

"You're doing great," he murmured, his blue eyes fixed on Glenn's darker ones. "Just keep going."

Glenn nodded vigorously, panting harshly against Daryl's shoulder as he prepared for the next contraction. It came with a roar and he surged back again, howling from the pain as he pushed. His hand was squeezing the life out of Daryl's and his body felt as though it was covered in sweat, tiny drops running down his sides.

"It's hot," he panted when the contraction dulled down to a throbbing ache.

Daryl released his hand as he helped Dale and Emrys with Glenn's button-up shirt. They slid the wet material off of his thin shoulders, exposing his pale chest to the cooler air. Glenn groaned as the shirt was tossed into the corner and Dale began applying the wet towel to his neck and shoulders.

"Thanks," he moaned.

"Rest, Glenn," Logan said from the far end of the cot. "You've still got a ways to go."

The hours passed slowly for the small group huddled in the cell and it was nearing midnight. The contractions were going strong most of time, leaving Glenn a nearly sobbing mess. Daryl tried to appear strong, though he kept shooting concerned looks at the surgeon across the bed from him. Thankfully, the contractions had subsided for a little while to a lighter, less intense pain, allowing Glenn to fall into an uneasy nap for a half hour or so.

An especially strong contraction though threw him out of his sleep, forcing his body to surge forward. Both Emrys and Daryl had let go of his hands while he'd slept, setting them over his bulging stomach. Gripping the fabric of the mattress, Glenn panted and sobbed as his arms shook. The pain between his legs and in his stomach was intense, as strong as anything he'd ever felt. A tear fell down his cheek as the pain faded again, but was quickly wiped away by Dale's cloth.

Lifting the blanket a little, Logan's eyes widened and he looked up at Glenn, nodding.

"You're close. Keep going."

Glenn gritted his teeth, seething as he glared at the man. He had been trying for the past six hours! Didn't the man see that? A cool hand on his bare back calmed him, rubbing his spine slowly. Glenn dropped his head back against Daryl's shoulder, groaning against his lover's neck.

He glanced up at Daryl, watching the intense blue eyes as they stared down at Glenn's swollen belly. The Southern man hadn't said anything since he'd first been laid down on the cot nearly six hours before. His support had been silent, but as strong as the others. Glenn could feel it in his chest when he pushed back against Glenn whenever he had a contraction. He could feel it in the strong hand that had lightly held his. He could see it in Daryl's cool, stoic face.

Turning his head to look forward, Glenn bit his lip lightly. A new feeling of stubborn adrenaline ran through him as he positioned himself for the next contraction. He was ready to bring this baby into the world.

When the next contraction hit, he grabbed at Daryl's knees, which were spread on either side of his body. He grit his teeth, pushing with all of his might until he could feel something change. His eyes flew open when he recognized what it was.

"Yes, Glenn, yes!" Logan cried. "That's it!"

Glenn panted with relief, spreading his shaking legs even further under the blanket. He caught his breath before the next pain hit and he bore down, screaming as he felt more of the body slip from him. Scrunching up his face in face, he pushed even harder. He wanted this baby out now!

"Lay back, Glenn. One more push and it will be over," Logan murmured as Dale and Emrys helped the smaller man lay back against Daryl again.

Glenn barely even felt their hands on him. His entire being was focused on the feeling between his legs. He stared down at the sheet that was thrown over his thighs, not even noticing how Logan's hands and arms had disappeared under the fabric.

The final pain arrived and he gritted his teeth, pushing with all of his might. Daryl pressed up against his back and settled his larger hands over Glenn's, pressing them into the Southern man's muscled knees. Glenn buried his face in Daryl's neck and bit into the skin as he let out a scream against the rough skin, pushing one last time.

He nearly sobbed when he felt the body of his child slip from him. A loud cry filled the room and tears slipped from his eyes as all of the tension in his body suddenly released, like the string of a bow releasing an arrow. He fell into Daryl's lap, his vision swimming with black dots. Behind him, he could feel Daryl shifting forward, trying to see their child while also fighting not to disturb Glenn.

Grinning, Glenn reached up with a shaking hand and touched the side of Daryl's face. The Southerner looked down at him and raised one eyebrow. Glenn shot him a smile before he brought Daryl's mouth down to him, kissing him softly. Without warning, Daryl slipped his tongue between Glenn's lips, engaging the smaller man in a battle for dominance and control. Glenn, too tired to protest, let his lover rule him completely in their kiss, ignoring everything else around him except the feeling of Daryl's tongue tracing his mouth and his large hands moving up and down his ribs.

"Daryl, Glenn?" Dale called through the buzzing silence that filled Glenn's ears.

He heard a quiet snip, but ignored it as well.

"Would you like to meet her?"

Glenn tore his mouth away from Daryl's, sitting up so quickly that he nearly hit his lover's head with his own. The blanket was still settled over his spread legs and he could smell the heavy aroma of coppery blood, but nothing mattered as much as the tiny body in Logan's arms.

She was somewhat of a blue color, her face scrunched up as she cried, fists curled in her face. Dale and Logan had wrapped her in a blanket, wiping some of the afterbirth and other liquids from her fragile body. Even though her eyes were closed, Glenn could tell that she definitely had the signature almond-shaped eyes from his family. Black hair sprouted from her rounded skull, thicker than any Glenn had ever seen on a baby. She opened her mouth and let out a wail, her small pink tongue poking out.

From that moment on, Glenn was lost. He reached out for his baby, forgetting the pain entirely. Logan grinned as he handed Glenn his daughter, Dale and Emrys helping Glenn's tired body lie back against Daryl. Glenn stared down at his daughter with complete love and affection, unable to look away from her as she whimpered and cooed. He didn't even feel his knees fall to the mattress or Daryl wrap his arms around Glenn's shoulders.

He was finally disturbed from his adoration when Daryl pecked him lightly on the cheek. Startled out of his thoughts, he glanced up at his lover, meeting the icy blue gaze. Glenn nearly gasped at the sight. He'd never seen Daryl so enraptured with anything than the sight in his lap: his lover and their baby.

Giggling lightly, Glenn pressed his head back against Daryl's throat and began rocking their infant daughter slowly in his arms. Daryl nuzzled the side of his head, nipping lightly at his ear as they watched their girl in her first minutes in the world.

"Have you decided on a name?" Logan asked.

"Reece," Daryl spoke up.

Everyone looked at him with surprise. That didn't sound like a name Daryl would have picked. Sensing Glenn's frown, the Southern man cleared his throat.

"Yah said yahr last name was Rhee and since we decided that she was goin' to have my last name, I thought we might as well keep yahr family name in there somewhere," he said sheepishly, clearly embarrassed. "Besides, there was that actress that had that name and everyone always seemed to think she was so pretty so…. it's fittin'."

Glenn grinned widely and kissed his lover on the cheek, snuggling his nose into Daryl's jaw. The larger man cleared his throat again, turning his gaze to his daughter.

"That's funny," Emrys said slowly.

"What's that?" Dale asked, glancing over at the Welshman.

"The name Reece. It's Welsh."

Chuckling, Glenn let out a loud laugh, the noise and vibration disturbing his slumbering daughter. She cried and squirmed in her father's arms, her tiny fists brushing along her cheeks. Her mouth open and closed a few times, almost as if she was searching for something.

Glenn recognized the look right away from months of watching Idris and now Judith. He glanced up at the others around him, blushing slightly.

"Would you guys mind giving us a moment? I think she's hungry."

Logan nodded and left, Emrys right behind. Dale was the last to leave, pausing for a moment at the door before he turned back to the young couple. He was smiling brightly, his eyes soft and shining.

"She's beautiful," he said as he left.

Glenn breathed a sigh of relief when they were all gone, lifting his daughter's head up to his nipple. Reece brushed her mouth over it a few times, almost as if she was unsure what to do with it. A shiver ran up Glenn spine each time she did this, his chest extremely sensitive from his pregnancy. Finally, she opened her mouth again and set it over his nipple, biting at it with her gums. Daryl chuckled lowly in his chest as she did, earning him a glare from Glenn.

It took a few more tries, but their daughter eventually figured out what to do. She started to suckle, drawing milk into her mouth with little problem. Glenn shuddered slightly at the feeling, unused to the feeling even after seeing Emrys nurse for almost half a year.

"Is the name alright?" Daryl asked as their daughter fed.

"It's perfect," Glenn replied, pecking Daryl on the cheek one more time. "I hardly even thought about names to be honest. I just wasn't able to decide on one. I'm glad you did."

"Do yah want to give her a middle name?" Daryl murmured. "I don't know if it's usual for… yahr kind to do that."

Glenn chuckled, resting the back of his head against Daryl's neck. He stared down at their feeding daughter for a moment, her tiny hand clutching at the flat plane of his chest.

"Monica," he said finally. "Reece Monica Dixon. Quite an eclectic choice of names."

"She's half Dixon, half Korean. Yah shouldn't have expected anythin' else."

* * *

**A/N: Honestly, I had the hardest time trying to figure out a name for their daughter once I decided it would be a girl. I am horrible with girl names (which is funny because I am a woman). I had just finished the line 'have you decided on a name' when it came to me: to do a name based on Glenn's last name. It's common among my group of friends to have middle names or even first names that are family names from their mom's side (since it's the name that won't be carried on). I thought it would be cute and to be honest, I didn't remember the connection to Reese Witherspoon's name until after I'd written most of this. I had to go back and add that. I decided to use the spelling with a c so that the name wouldn't be exactly the same as her's and it wouldn't be the exact same spelling as the candy brand either. Her middle name, Monica, is the name of a friend's younger sister who I will be basing her later appearance off of. My friend's sister is really adorable so I thought: "why not"? I hope you all liked my choice because it was a SERIOUS struggle! **


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: It seems that there are a lot of Emrys fans among the followers of this story and several requested an EmrysxAvi chapter. Well, here it is! It starts off with some fluff between our main characters, but Avi and Emrys as the main center of this chapter. Its all about how a romantically involved couple gets "back on the horse" after the birth of a child. If you can't handle sex, look away. REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 18

Over a month had passed and Glenn had barely left Reece's side, preferring to carry her next to his chest in a sling that he'd fashioned from an older shirt. Most of the time she slept or make noises at her father as he worked, organizing and tallying the supplies or whatever else he was assigned to do. She was beginning to find that her voice had several different pitches, discovering her high squeal at just two weeks old. The sound was so piercing that it would echo off the stone walls of the prison and made Glenn's ears ring for minutes after.

Glenn didn't mind though. He adored his daughter with his entire being. He loved her dark, thick hair. He was fond of caressing the pale skin of her cheeks, which was smooth and soft like silk. He was enchanted by the blue irises set in the almost shaped eyes and was infatuated with her tiny hands and feet. Every sound she made, he relished in, silently declaring it the cutest sound ever each and every time.

Daryl teased him incessantly about it, teasingly giving him nicknames like 'Mommy dearest' and other ridiculous notions. Glenn would just glare at him each time he used one of the nicknames, although he didn't put any real emotion behind it.

Daryl adored his daughter just as much as Glenn did and, while it was done in a much quieter manner, it was obvious to everyone. Within hours of her birth, when Glenn had finally fallen asleep from exhaustion, Daryl had taken Reece into his arms and carried her into the second cell block so she could meet everyone else. Reece was in a deep sleep, cuddled against her father's muscled chest and whimpering somewhat in her sleep. When Dale made a move to take her from Daryl, the man had tensed and growled like an overprotective alpha dog. Only after making sure that Dale knew how to hold her correctly did Daryl hand over his precious daughter. Even then, he stuck close to Dale's side, one eye always focused on Reece as she slept.

Even now, as Glenn lay in the dark of their cell, he could see the love that Daryl held for Reece. The smaller man was on his side on his cot, his arm tucked under his head. On a second cot that was pushed up beside his, Daryl was leaning back against the wall. Reece was in his arms, her delicate form tucked into the strong muscles of the Southern man. She was wrapped in a blue blanket to keep out the last remains of the winter chill, her breath soft and steady.

"She is amazin', yah know," Daryl murmured suddenly, drawing Glenn out of his thoughts.

"Hm?" Glenn asked as he glanced up at his lover.

Shifting Reece so she was balanced between on of his arms and his chest, Daryl reached out with his other hand and grasped Glenn's. The shorter man blushed a little and shifted his body closer to Daryl, molding himself against the Southern man's side. They stared at each other for a few minutes, brushing each other's hands with their fingers.

"Reece… Thank you for giving birth to her," Daryl said, a faint blush growing on his cheeks

Glenn grinned and nodded, understanding completely what his lover meant by that. Slowly, he sat up and leaned against Daryl, the larger man's arm wrapping around his waist. Daryl's fingers slipped under the edge of his shirt, brushing over the skin as the two lovers watched Reece sleep.

"Do yah think she'll be immune?" Daryl asked quietly.

Glenn shrugged. "I hope so. If she is, then Idris probably is and vice versa. Imagine that. They wouldn't have to worry about being bitten like we do."

Daryl nodded. "It would just be like a dog bite to them. One wouldn't kill them, but enough of them would."

"Life would be so much easier," Glenn murmured, his brown eyes softening as Reece shifted in her sleep, yawning.

"She'll survive and she'll grow up strong," Daryl said in an effort to reassure his lover. "She has all of us to protect her until she can protect herself."

Glenn laughed and butted his head against Daryl's arm. "You'll have a crossbow in her hands by the time she can walk."

"Of course," Daryl huffed. "I shot my first arrow when I was four years old."

"Just no guns at least until she's Carl's age," Glenn warned, his voice stern and serious.

Daryl settled further down the wall, drawing his hand up Glenn's side. He trailed his fingers lightly over the pale skin around his ribs, tickling the skin.

"Gotta learn the old fashioned way before you can step up to the newer stuff. Mommy says so," he told the sleeping baby.

Elbowing his lover in the side, Glenn rolled his eyes and snuggled against Daryl. As they watched their sleeping child, the silence filled the air around them. Slowly, Glenn's eyes started to droop and he slipped into sleep. Beside him, Daryl was quietly watching both his lover and his daughter, enjoying the quiet, easy family time away from all of the death that lay beyond the walls of the prison.

* * *

In another part of the prison, Emrys and Avi were enjoying the quiet as well. They had left Idris with Dale, who had easily agreed to watch the sleeping baby, and were strolling along the hallways that led to the infirmary. Their hands were wrapped around each other and their fingers interlocked as they walked, swinging easily between their bodies. When they reached the door, Avi held it open for his smaller lover, his brown eyes falling to Emrys's ass as the Welshman passed. Emrys threw the bigger man a wicked grin over his shoulder, flouncing into the darkness of the room.

Avi shook his head and quickly slipped into the room, closing the door behind him. Moonlight filtered in through the few barred windows, trailing across the floor in white light. The shelves were emptied, having been pilfered by Glenn and Carl over a month earlier. Most of the beds had been stripped of their mattresses, but a few still remained. In the far corner, Emrys sat on one such bed, leaning back on his hands. He was grinning brightly as Avi advanced towards him.

Taking his lover's face in his hands, Avi lowered his mouth to Emrys's. The blond raised himself up to meet Avi's kiss, drawing the bigger man's tongue into his mouth. They moaned together as Emrys scooted back and Avi climbed onto the bed.

Without breaking their kiss, Avi lay back on the mattress, his head resting on the pillow that Emrys had brought with him from their cell. The smaller Welshman straddled his husband and groaned loudly when their hips connected. He could feel Avi under him, growing heavy, strong, and hot.

Finally, he broke away and started rocking, slowly unbuttoning the front of his shirt. Avi grabbed onto his hips as Emrys slipped off his shirt and let it fall easily from his fingers to the floor beside the bed. Planting his smaller hands on Avi's broad chest, Emrys slowed his pace, rocking smoothly, slowly, but strongly.

Underneath him, Avi was panting and grinding back, the friction growing as he rubbed against the inside of his jeans. His brown eyes were fixed on Emrys's face as the smaller man rocked above him. The blond man's face was contorted in passion and lust, his mouth hanging open slightly as his breath picked up. A few strands of longer hair fell in his eyes and stuck to his cheeks, ignored as Emrys lost himself in the feeling. Reaching up, Avi brushed them away, grinning when his lover's eyes opened and focused on him.

"Thanks," Emrys murmured as he suddenly raised himself up on his knees, thumbs hooking in the waist of his pants.

Avi matched his grin as his blond lover started to swing his hips from side to side slowly, his fingers making slow work of the button at the front of his jeans. When the copper button was released from the hole, Emrys moved his hands down to the zipper. As slowly as Avi had ever thought possible, he lowered the zipper. It clicked and scraped at each little notch that it hit, drawing out the loud zip that Avi wanted to hear. Growling, he grabbed at Emrys's hands and drew them down, completely revealing the bulge at the front of his lover's boxers.

Emrys groaned lightly as Avi slipped down under him, raising himself up on one of his arms until he was even with the bulge. His other hand rose to run a single finger over the wet spot that now decorated the gray boxers, drawing a shiver from Emrys's lithe frame. The finger trailed up and down the bulge a few times, teasing him before disappearing. Emrys opened his eyes to protest, not even realizing that he had closed them.

Suddenly, his jeans and boxers were yanked down to his knees and his length was engulfed in a hot mouth. Emrys let out a cry as he bucked forward, knocking himself onto all fours. He panted harshly as Avi swallowed him whole, running his tongue up and down the underside of his dick. Falling onto his forearms, Emrys groaned loudly, fighting back tears of joy.

"Oh yeah, baby, just like that," he panted, burying his face in the white sheets as his hands clenched into fists.

His hips started to rock into Avi's mouth as his husband continued to tease him, the signature heat of orgasm starting to build in his stomach. One hand gripped his hip to steady him as he tried to pick up the pace, fighting him back to a slow, smooth rhythm.

"A-Avi," Emrys groaned, pleaded.

He almost began to cry when a large hand settled over his balls, massaging them. The hand cupped him lightly, the rough skin of his palm making shivers run through Emrys's entire body. He convulsed and purred, spreading his legs wider to give Avi more room.

"It's been too long," he panted. "Eight months of no sex is far too long."

Avi grinned in agreement against his lover's dick, slowly drawing his mouth back until just the tip was still in his mouth. Emrys shook from pleasure as the cool air hit his arousal and he tightened his fists in the fabric of the sheets.

Releasing his lover entirely, Avi pushed Emrys up into a sitting position as he slid his large body back up the body. The blond was perched on his lap, eyes clouded with lust and his nipples erect from the physical pleasure he'd just endured. His smaller hands came to rest on Avi's shoulders as the bigger man laid his on Emrys's small ass.

Emrys jumped a little as the rough hands of his husband squeezed him and he giggled a little. He sneered and lifted one leg, letting his jeans slip off entirely. When he was done, he was completely naked and sitting back in Avi's lap again. Leaning forward, he began pulling on the hem of the larger American's shirt.

Taking it as a silent command, Avi quickly undressed, shoving all of his clothes onto the floor with his lover's help. Soon, he too was naked and lying under his husband, hands settling back on Emrys's ass. Emrys moaned as Avi's large hands pulled his cheeks apart and them pushed them back together before repeating the process. He began to rock again, his slick cock sliding against Avi's.

"Oh, Avi," he moaned as a finger traced the rim of his hole. "Please, baby. I want it bad. I want it like a _hwran_, a _slebog_. Give it to me, all of it, now!"

"Alright," Avi murmured, pulling his finger away from Emrys to coat his hand with saliva.

Emrys watched him with fascination, his cock jerking at the sight of his husband sucking on his fingers. His eyes slipped closed when Avi pulled his fingers out of his mouth and slid them around behind the blond Welshman. Emrys let out a cry as the wet finger hit his entrance and wiggled inside, sliding against the smooth walls. He panted and groaned as the finger started to slowly move in and out, guiding his hips into a steady rocking motion.

"Oh yeah," Emrys moaned as a second finger slid inside.

The motion changed. Instead of moving in and out, the fingers split apart, opening his entrance for a much larger intrusion. Emrys didn't even notice the slight pain in his backside at this motion. His eyes were closed and his face contorted with pleasure at the feeling of his husband –any part of his husband- inside of him again.

"Please, Avi. A third," he whined loudly.

Without saying anything, Avi shoved his third finger, his middle, inside. Emrys yelped a little, his hips jerking and shaking. Avi steadied him with his free hand, his other occupied with pleasuring his beloved husband. Emrys's hands were once again planted on his chest, dragging his fingers through Avi's plentiful and dark chest hair.

As Emrys rode his fingers, Avi sat up a little, his face meeting Emrys's chest. The blond jolted when a rough tongue ran over his right nipple, teasing the shivering peak. He groaned at the double sources of pleasure, raising his hands to grip Avi's shoulders.

Suddenly, a warm hand gripped his cock and he was lost, unsure what to do. He wanted to rock back on those lovely fingers that were buried inside of him, searching for his pleasure spot. He wanted to rock forward in the hot hand that was holding him and teasing his slit. He wanted to arch his back and offer up his sensitive chest to his husband as he felt his milk rise to the surface.

"A-A-Avi," he panted, rising up onto his knees and burying his fingers in Avi's short, dark hair.

The larger man chuckled against his chest as he ran his tongue around Emrys's nipples, coaxing out the white milk that usually feed their son. He pulled away to watch a single drop slowly dribble down the blond's chest, his hands slowly in their pace in Emrys's ass and on his cock.

"Stop staring," Emrys growled, jerking back to try and drive Avi's fingers further into him.

Avi smiled as he attacked, attaching his mouth onto the round pebble. Emrys groaned and pulled Avi's head as close to his nipple as he could get, panting as the tongue tortured the tender nub. He could feel the milk flowing, but he didn't pay any attention to that. In his entrance, he could feel Avi's fingers searching around, running carefully along the walls in search of that special spot.

"Come on, Avi, find it-"

He was cut off when Avi hit his prostate, his mouth hanging open in a silent scream as he threw his head back. His breath caught in his throat as Avi switched to his other nipple, playing with it as his hand continued to stroke Emrys's engorged cock.

Suddenly, Avi yanked his fingers out off Emrys's ass and pulled away, leaving his husband a quivering mess in his lap. He smirked as he pulled Emrys down, slipping his cock between the blond's cheeks. Emrys groaned and drew Avi into a kiss as he raised his hips just a little and sunk down. They moaned into each other's mouths as Avi was engulfed inside his smaller lover, their bodies quivering and shaking from the force of the motion.

In a matter of moments, he was buried deep inside, panting alongside his lover. He nuzzled Emrys's pale neck as his hands clenched the blond's hips.

"Ready?" he moaned.

"Oh fuck yeah. Fuck me hard and fast, Avi. I want to feel this next week," his husband whispered in reply, his hot breath tickling at Avi's ear.

With a grin, Avi slowly drew out, teasing and torturing his protesting husband. He snapped his hips forward, burying himself again and Emrys gasped from the force. Setting a fast and heavy pace, he pounded up into his lover who was practically bouncing in his lap. Emrys's head was lowered, his chin hanging as he stared down at his lover, fighting to keep pace with Avi.

Eventually, they matched their rhythms and it only grew from there. Avi was shoving Emrys down onto his cock as the smaller blond rode him like he was an untamed horse, his knees digging into the side of Avi's thighs and his feet hooked over the dark haired man's shins. His passageway was constricting and loosening, massaging the lock cock inside of him. Each time Avi struck his prostate, the Welshman sobbed from pleasure, begging for more.

"M-make me come. Make me exp-plode. Fuck me so hard that I can't walk t-tomorrow. I want to be laid up in bed, only a-able to feed Idris before falling asleep again, c-completely exhausted and s-sp-pent. Please Avi! More, more, more! Always more," he begged and cried.

Avi followed everything his lover asked for, thrusting up into that tight hold as quickly and as fiercely as he could. He relished in the sight above him, Emrys's mouth hung open and his eyes blown wide. The blond was convulsing on his lap, jerking as he rode Avi's strong cock.

After a particularly strong stroke, Emrys moaned, "Oh yes. I love your cock. So p-perfect and big. It fits p-perfectly inside of me, made for me to r-ride and worship with the inside of my b-body."

Pulling Emrys's head down to his, Avi stilled his hips for a moment and whispered, "Come from just my cock, Rys. Come from the cock that you love so much."

He thrust up with all of his might, Emrys jerking up in his lap. He set a new, stronger, but slower, hitting his husband's pleasure spot every single time. Emrys was panting wildly and moaning loudly. Avi could see that he was hanging just on the edge, but even this new pace hadn't pushed him over.

Sliding his hands up Emrys's now flat stomach and over the ribs, Avi tickled the small hollow at the center of the blond's chest. Emrys frowned a little, but it disappeared the moment that his nipples were pinched. He came violently, his entire body quaking as his liquid exploded across his chest and stomach. A few drops fell to Avi's strong stomach as the large man surged up, burying himself deeply inside Idris as he was massaged and clenched by his husband's passage.

They fell onto the bed in a heat of sweating bodies and cum, both of them still breathing hard as Avi jerked a few more times, Emrys meeting him stroke for stroke as the larger man released into the blond. Finally, they both fell still, too tired to stir. Emrys's slick legs fell from Avi's as the large hands slowly slid up to rest on Emrys's thin lower back.

"We waited for far too long," Emrys groaned.

Avi smiled a little and raised his weary head to look down at his husband. Emrys's blue eyes were closed and his breath steady as he began to doze on Avi's chest. His legs were spread wide and from his angle, Avi could just see some cum dribble out of the blond's ass and onto the dark-haired man's thick leg.

Lying back against the pillow, Avi slowly moved so Emrys lay beside him. Neither of them spoke as Avi rested his arm across Emrys's waist, his eyes drifting closed. Emrys was already asleep by the time Avi was comfortable, both of them completely worn and exhausted. Avi's lips twitched as he started to sink into sleep.

There was no way that Emrys was going to be able to walk comfortably tomorrow.

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**Like it? Love it? Review!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Haha I loved the positive response to the EmrysXAvi chapter. Someone even requested that I write a prequel for them. Maybe I will. We'll see, but on with the drama! REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 19

The first time that Glenn and Emrys were separated from their children was nearly a month later.

Idris had just begun to crawl and wander around on his own. His newfound freedom had started to get him into trouble already when he'd crawled under Avi's feet while he was helping to cook dinner. The large man had tripped over his son and fell hard to the floor, just managing to avoid kicking or hurting the little baby. Idris had giggled nonstop for nearly half an hour, even after Emrys had run in and grabbed him, scolding the baby for running off.

Emrys needed a break from his son. They had been practically attached at the hip for seven months, since the day he'd been born. Idris's newest level of independence was driving Emrys crazy and he needed to get out beyond the high fences and stone walls of the prison.

Dale had found a small town on the map nearly twenty miles from the prison, the perfect location for a supply run. Much like the town that the Compound had been near, it was located just off the highway, making it easy to access. However, it was a much larger town and more likely to have a gun supply store or at least a Walmart.

Glenn had agreed to make the run with Emrys, despite Dale's protests. He needed to be away from the prison for a while as well. He'd been largely kept inside since Reece's birth, sleeping and nursing as he recovered from the ordeal. While he'd been biologically able to give birth, his male body had not been built to carry a child and did not recover from the event as easily as a woman's.

Logan had finally let him start moving around nearly two weeks earlier after three more on the cot in his cell with only the three babies for company most days. He no longer felt sharp pains emanating from his ass when he walked nor did his legs give out from exhaustion after half an hour of standing. Apart from his slightly flabbier form and the obvious stretch marks on his stomach, he didn't bear any evidence of having given birth a month and a half earlier.

He was ready to venture out again.

"Thanks for agreeing to come with me," Emrys said as they drove away from the prison in Rick's SUV. "I know that some of the others didn't want you to come with, Logan especially."

"They'll be fine without us," Glenn replied.

"Daryl didn't say much about you leaving," the blond continued.

Glenn smirked. "It means that he gets to spend the day with Reece."

The blond laughed and nodded. "He does love her, doesn't he?"

"If anyone gets near her with anything other than some non-lethal flower in his hands, Daryl will shoot them in the forehead," the smaller man beside him said.

"I think it would be more than that."

"Maybe four in the forehead, two in the neck and a few in the chest."

They fell into easy conversation about their respective lovers, talking about anything they wanted to. With the end of the world, nearly all social boundaries had fallen with them. Both couples kept their love lives as private as possible around the group, but with each other, Emrys and Glenn had no inhibitions. They were two openly gay men in an apocalyptic world where walking corpses were ready to rip them apart, even if their bites didn't kill either of the them. There was no reason for them to hide, especially not from each other.

As they pulled off the highway and into the small town, they quieted, warily looking out for walkers. The town was silent and there was not a single walker in sight. Just like every other town and city they'd seen in the past year, the buildings were abandoned and partly ruined. A few houses had been burned out completely and others were boarded up. The grass was dead from lack of care and a few trees were beginning to regain their leaves that had been lost in the winter winds. Every now and then they would find a car, abandoned in the side of the road, with the windows rolled down. Sometimes there was a body inside, mostly decomposed after a year of heat, wind, rain, and the other elements.

Pulling into the parking lot of some large superstore, they two men stepped out of the SUV and looked around. Again, no walkers. With a crowbar in hand, Glenn snuck towards the front door of the store, glancing in through the broken glass. No movement. Motioning to Emrys, he slipped inside and crouched low behind the nearest shelf.

All of his senses were alert and in some sort of a hyper mode. If he'd been an animal, his ears would have been twitching and swiveling around to hear everything from every direction. When only silence met his ears, he slowly made his way down the aisle and straightened up.

Taking a basket from Emrys, he began filtering through the shelves for supplies. Most of what they were looking for were small things: toys for the babies, hygiene supplies for Andrea and the other women, and whatever they felt they could use. Emrys found several full containers of bullets and even an old shotgun that had been hidden under the cashier's counter.

At the back of the store, Glenn came across a clothing section. Avoiding the adult sections entirely, he stole into the children's section. Walking among the low racks of superhero t-shirts, kaki shorts in various patterns, and the occasional bucket hat with 'Mommy's Boy' stitched across the front in blue letters, he came to the area he needed.

His fingers reached out and ran over the short fabric of a new white shirt, cotton and pure. He silently slipped a few into his basket, wiping his somewhat dirty hands on his jeans when the dirt stained the white fabric. Glenn had never been interested in girls in any way, even when he was a little boy. He remembered thinking all through school how strange they were and how they were always together in groups, giggling and laughing about something that he could never understand. Even in high school, after outgrowing the traditional girls-have-cooties stage of elementary and middle school, he'd had few girl friends. He had spent his time with a select group of guys on the fringe of the central social circles, staring at the muscles jocks from a far and silently idolizing the intelligence of the advanced placement male students.

Girls were ignored.

Now though, there was a girl at the center of his life and to him, she was the cutest female in existence. His daughter –apart from Daryl- was the most important thing to him. Even in the apocalypse, he wanted to show how cute he thought she was.

Grabbing random shirts, pants, and other clothing and shoving them into his basket, he found himself absorbed in the search. Shopping –just like girls- had never interested him at all, but now he had a purpose. He didn't look up from his search for at least twenty minutes and when he finally did, he saw Emrys standing in the toddler boy's section, smirking at him.

Glenn rolled his eyes before he turned to continue through the section and continued towards the sign that was labeled Outdoors. His brown eyes flitted back and forth, searching for potential weapons as he walked up the first aisle. He took a few packages of bendable wire along with a new pair of bolt cutters.

Finally, along the back wall, he found what he was looking for. His eyes caught the faint light of glinting metal and his eyes shot open. He dashed towards the glint and reached into the shelf, his hand closing over a thin, long box. Pulling it out, he let out a low whistle. Inside the box was a set of five new arrows, all championship grade. They weren't built to really kill, rather to go through wooden targets at a practice range.

But they were perfect.

Setting the single box on his shoulder, he made his way back towards the front of the store. He met Emrys in the center of the building and together, they headed to the car. Emrys unlocked the trunk and listed the hatchback, setting his supplies in the trunk just as they heard the rumble of an approaching car.

Glenn slowly set his basket at his feet and the box of arrows on the edge of the hatchback bed as the truck pulled into the parking lot. He clutched the crowbar in one hand as the truck rolled to a stop, the front window obscured in shadows so he couldn't see who sat in the driver's seat. Beside him, Emrys was reaching back into the trunk of the SUV, his fist closing over the handle of his family sword.

The door of the truck opened and a single booted foot stepped down from the bed of the truck, quickly followed by another. The man wasn't tall, barely bigger than Glenn was himself, but muscled. He spat loudly on the ground as he stepped back from the door of the truck and swung it closed with a bang.

The air rushed out of Glenn's lungs as he struggled to breath. His eyes widened slightly as he stared at the man who had just stepped out of the truck. He recognized the receding hairline and the brown fuzzes of hair that were cropped close to the skull. The strong jawline was easily recognizable and the downturned, disapproving mouth was an obvious as the daylight around them. There was that stance, wide set and strong, and the haughty, arrogant way he had a large rifle tucked over his left shoulder.

"Holy fuck Chinaman, you look like shit," the man cackled.

Emrys glanced at Glenn, his gaze wary. "Glenn?"

The smaller man didn't reply, his gaze focused on the other man. He scowled and clutched his crowbar, his hands practically shaking from a mixture of shock, fear, and anger. This man had been lost. Now that he was back, he was a threat to everything that had happened in the last ten months. He was a threat to Glenn's relationship with Daryl, to his daughter, and to the group.

Fighting down his anger, he snarled, "Merle, you shouldn't be here?"

"Really?" the older Dixon cackled. "No, I suppose not. You all probably thought I got tore apart by walkers or somethin' after you left me up there on that roof."

Emrys stepped closer to Glenn, pulling his sword from its hiding place in the trunk of the SUV. Merle's eyes widened a little when he saw the gleaming metal and let out a cruel laugh. He held his hands and a shiver ran up Glenn's spine. The left hand was fine, but the right was gone, replaced with a metal-covered stump. A blade was attacked to the side like a bayonet, sharp and dangerous.

"Hold it there, blondie. I don't want no trouble, just to meet up with an old friend, right Chinaman?" the Southern man asked.

"I'm Korean, you fuck," Glenn snapped.

Ten months without a racist comment or a bad nickname had softened Glenn's natural thick skin. He shuddered at the thought of having to live around this repulsive man that was also his lover's older brother again.

"I'm surprised to see you out here, actually, Chinaman," Merle continued. "I though y'all would stick close to Atlanta."

"We're not stupid, Merle. The walkers were leaving Atlanta in droves. We needed to get away," Glenn snarled.

"Oh, the chink puppy grew some fangs, it seems," Merle laughed.

"Glenn, how do you know this guy?" Emrys murmured.

Merle's attention snapped over to the blond Welshman, recognizing instantly that his slight accent was not any that he knew.

"Who are yah, a Commie?"

"No, I'm Welsh," Emrys replied without looking away from Glenn.

"Same thing," the Southern man snarled. He glanced over at Glenn again. "Is my little brother still with yah?"

Glenn froze and gritted his teeth. His eyes flicked over to Emrys, who frowned, before he looked back at Merle.

"Yeah, he is," Glenn said slowly.

"And how is Darleena doin', huh? He still huntin' rodents for yah ungrateful punk ass lot?" Merle asked.

Glenn felt Emrys still beside him as the Welshman realized whom Merle was. When he had first met the blond, Glenn had told him about what had happened to their group since Atlanta fell. He'd told Emrys about Sofia, about Maggie, Beth, and the others, about his parents, and of course about Merle. He'd never mentioned Merle by name, only explaining that he was Daryl's older brother. Emrys knew all about the incident on the roof of the department store in downtown Atlanta.

"Daryl is fine," Glenn muttered.

"Ain't too chatty, are yah China?" Merle sighed. "Well, I'd best take yah two in."

"Take us in?" Emrys asked, his grip tightening on the handle of his sword.

"Yeah. Don't want to leave yah two out here all alone, now do I? Besides, there are some things I need to ask yah. The Governor's gonna be real interested to hear what yah gotta say," the Southern man drawled.

Glenn grit his teeth and practically growled at the other man. There was no way that he was going to be away from his baby for longer than necessary. He may have needed the outing, but he was anxious to get back to the prison now.

"I don't think so. We need to be leaving," Glenn said as he stated backing away, moving in the direction of the far side of the SUV.

Merle smirked and shook his head. Before Glenn could get very far, he reached into the waistband of his pants and whipped out a pistol. Holding it steady, he aimed it at Glenn's forehead, his smirk growing into a grin.

"Now why is that, China? Yah wantin' to get back to yahr group? Too bad. I need to talk to yah first."

Emrys and Glenn exchanged a glance, the blond's blue eyes widening. They were trapped and they knew it. They didn't have a gun and even with Glenn's speed and Emrys's sword, there was no way they were would get out of there alive. Merle would shoot both of them dead first. They had to go with him.

As they rode away from town in Merle's truck, none of them noticed someone hiding in the bushes at the edge of the parking lot, watching with dark eyes as they sped away. When the truck was out of sight, she stepped out and walked over to the abandoned SUV. She glanced into the bed of the trunk, her gaze falling on the clothes and other items that sat in the red baskets from the store. Glenn's crowbar and Emrys's broadsword lay abandoned in the bed of the trunk.

Noticing a pair of car keys that lay on top of a small, red t-shirt, she picked them up and examined them for a few moments. Fisting the keys, she reached up and swung the hatchback down, shutting the trunk. She stepped over to the driver's side door and unlocked it, swinging it open. As she climbed into the SUV, she started the engine and glanced around at the few things that lay on the floor in front of the passenger's seat. Reaching down, she picked up a local map. The prison was circled in bright red.

* * *

An hour later, they pulled up to an abandoned concrete building on the edge of another small town. In the distance, Glenn could see a high wall and men patrolling it. Merle opened the driver's side door and slipped out, shooting the other men a fierce glare.

"What the hell Merle?" a man shouted as he came out of the building, a gun slung over one shoulder.

"The Governor will wanna see them," Merle replied, walking around to the other side of the truck and forcing the door open.

He grabbed Emrys's arm and yanked him out of the truck, pushing him in the direction of the other man. Emrys fell to his knees, his arms securely tied behind his back. He snarled at the Southern man and growled at the other man as he approached. Glenn sighed and scooted over into Emrys's former spot before he too was forced out of the truck and onto his knees beside the Welshman.

"These people were the ones that left me in Atlanta, or at least the Chinaman here was," Merle laughed. "Come on, Martinez. Yah know how much the Governor loves new people."

The other man, Martinez, glanced down at Emrys and Glenn, frowning. He nodded and grabbed Emrys's arm, dragging him to his feet. Martinez led the way, pulling Emrys along with him into the building. Glenn fought to not pay attention to Merle as the Southern man practically picked him up, placed him on his feet, and snickering behind his back.

The concrete building was surprisingly cool inside, the windows having been boarded up and darkened. Only a few stray rays of light made it inside, filtering in through the cracks in the wood. The walls and halls were all made of concrete and were bare, but for some streaks of dried liquid that would have been blood, mud, or even dirt. Glenn tried to keep his gaze on the floor as they walked. The building was too dark to see any recognizable landmarks for a possible escape. He looked up just in time to see Emrys pushed into a brightly lit room and he fought to follow him, struggling against Merle's vice-like grip.

Just as the door closed, Merle snarled, "Stop fightin', China. Your foreign friend will be fine."

Glenn was pushed into the next room beside Emrys's. It was well lit and filled with broken objects. The single chair that sat in the center of the room was the only thing that remained in one piece. An old spring frame sat along one wall beside a stained mattress and some stacked boxes. Flattened cardboard decorated the floor along with a few broken bottles and at least four or five plastic containers.

Merle forced Glenn down into the chair as another man –nor Martinez- came into the room with a roll of silver duck tape. He went about taping Glenn's arms to the chair as well as his legs, disappearing when he was done without a word. Standing in front of the chair, the rough Southern man stared down at Glenn and smirked.

Without warning, he drew back a fist and punched Glenn in the eye. The smaller man's head snapped to the side and he groaned from the pain that burst through the nerves in his face. Slowly, he turned back to face Merle, one eye squeezed shut from the bright, heavy pain. Merle was grinning as he grabbed the front of Glenn's shirt and brought his face close to the smaller man's.

"Now, tell me where my brother and rest of yahr little smart ass group is."

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**Like it? Love it? Review!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: It took me a little while, but I have the newest installment of our DarylxGlenn adventure. I'm happy to announce that it seems the abused!Glenn story I was thinking of starting is going to hopefully begin soon! I have found a co-writer and we're working on the details, but be sure to keep looking for it. REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 20

The room was hot and the air was muggy, filled with water and stinking of fresh sweat. He could feel it dripping down his arms, his chest, his back, and his face. Some drops stayed on the slightly rounded plane of his forehead, clinging to the pale skin. A few had been stopped in their path down his face by his thin, dark eyebrows and wetted the short hairs there, turning it slick and smooth. Several strands of hair stuck to his forehead from the humidity of the room and his clothes were soaked. The wet cotton of his shirt rubbed against his back and had begun to chafe away the outer layer of his skin. Underneath the fabric, the skin was probably bright red. He could feel it already beginning to burn from the salt of his sweat.

His arms were still taped to the chair. Several small splinters of wood had broken away from the chair in his struggle and fought their way through his shirt so they became embedded in the flesh of his forearms. Tiny pricks of pain flared up his arms every time he moved. Thankfully, his heavy jeans prevented the same torture from being done to his legs.

His ass throbbed uncomfortably from being forced to sit in that uncomfortable chair for hours. The ache sent waves through his body with each movement and every stir, coloring his mind a faint pink shade until the pain reached his already burning back. There, it morphed into a flash of white, red, and blue: hot, hotter, and hottest.

His chest wasn't much better. Based on the ache that emanated from his pectoral muscles, he knew that he had to have been locked up in this room for at least a whole day if not longer. The milk that his system was producing was building up and causing his chest to swell slightly, something that he hadn't seen since the few days before Reece was born. The bruises that now littered his chest were of no help as well. When the first punch had landed on his chest several hours earlier, he'd felt a little of the milk dribble out, the force being too great to his body to hold it back. If it weren't for the sweat that covered the front and back of his shirt, he was sure that his torturer would have noticed the sudden new spot of wetness.

In a cruel joke, his shoes and socks had been removed and thrown across the room, leaving his feet bare. At first, he had been somewhat thankful for the release from the thick boots that he'd worn despite the racist overtone of the action. He'd thought that the cool cement floor would have aided him in his survival, but it turned out to be a worse torture than the heat alone. The underside of his feet, his toes, his heels, even the arch, were burning from the freezing cold temperature of the shadowed cement. The bright lights on the walls hadn't helped to heat the solid floor. Intense, violent heat was pushed into the tops of his feet from the heavy air around him. The nerves and tendons in his thin feet didn't know how to react to the two sources of opposing forces, racing around in a cycle of freezing and then thawing for a moment before freezing again.

The pain in his feet thankfully had taken his mind off the ache that decorated nearly every inch of his face. His cheeks were heavily bruised from vicious hits and punches and his nose was probably broken. He vaguely remembered hearing a loud crack several hours ago, followed by the intense, blinding pain. It had dulled now as he fought to keep the muscles in his face as still as possible, but every now and then, a nerve would twitch and it would burn brightly again. His jaw was throbbing on one side and he knew that he was sporting a black eye and probably a whole lot of blood. He couldn't tell the difference between the drops of clear sweat and the dripping stream of blood that had been steadily falling from his nose for the past half an hour.

He could hear voices coming through the wall to his left and he slowly turned his head towards them, struggling to open his eyes. The splinters dug further into his arms and his back burned with pain, but he fought to ignore it, straining his ears. All he could hear were the whispers and then, a loud crack. His good eye flew open and he tried to leap up out of his chair. He cringed and flinched as the restraints pulled him harshly back into the chair. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the shout of pain deep down into his stomach and tensed every muscle in his body to keep them from shaking.

He had little to no energy left and he groaned to think about what they could be doing to Emrys in that room next to his. Emrys had nothing to do with Merle being left on that roof. The blond Welshman hadn't even met Glenn or the rest of them until nearly a month after that incident. What information could they possibly need from him?

Oh that's right. He rifled through his memories of the questions that his torturer had asked him. They'd all centered around where their group was camped. Glenn had held his tongue. No one would get the location out of him, even if the man landing the blows had a metal stump instead of a fist.

He growled quietly under his breath, flinching from the pain that rushed through his cheek at the movement. These men were a threat. Merle was a threat. Glenn had always been wary of the eldest Dixon brother long before he'd nearly killed T-Dog on the roof of that department store in Atlanta. The older man was far more volatile than Daryl was and, as Glenn knew from personal experience, far more likely to storm the prison and kill everyone inside, if Merle found out that they were living at the prison, that is. Sadly, Glenn had to admit that the man that essentially was, for all intents and purposes, his brother-in-law would probably even kill Reece.

His eyes widened at his realization. Merle was Reece's uncle. Shit. A shiver ran up Glenn's spine as the door opened at the far end of his room, but he didn't look up. Merle couldn't know about Reece. He couldn't know about Daryl and Glenn being together. A man like him would never tolerate having a gay brother, especially not one who was with someone who wasn't white.

Suddenly, a heavy metal fist –if Merle's ironclad stump could be considered a fist- slammed into the side of his head and knocked him out of his thoughts. Blood burst from his sore gums and out his mouth, landing with a plot on the concrete floor. He groaned as his chin dropped to his chest, yanked back only when a rough hand gripped his hair. Slowly, Glenn opened his one good eye and glared up at Merle.

The Southern man released his hair and took a seat on the edge of the table. He smirked as he and Glenn stared at each other. His blue eyes were hard and cool, but filled with a maniacal laughter. The iron stump rested in his lap, decorated with a few drops of Glenn's blood.

"Yah and Mr. fish and chips over there ain't very chatty, are yah China?" Merle drawled. "Why is that? Yah were so very talkative before when we was in Atlanta."

"I don't have anything to say to you," Glenn growled.

"Is that so? 'Cause I think yah have a lot to tell me. For example, where yahr group is camped. I wanna know where my brother is," the older man replied.

"I'm not going to tell you," Glenn muttered, memories of Daryl and Reece flashing through his mind.

Sighing, Merle bent down so his face was level with Glenn's. His good hand shot out and he grabbed Glenn's face, forcing his thumb and his middle finger straight into either side of the smaller man's jaw. Glenn hissed from the flashes of pain and gritted his teeth, his one open eye narrowing at Merle.

"Yahr tougher than I remember, Chinaman," Merle mused, staring down at the smaller man with a pensive look.

"I'm Korean," Glenn hissed.

"Sure yah are, but it don't matter. Now-"

His metal fist slammed once again into the side of Glenn's head, nearly knocking the entire chair over from the force of the hit.

"Tell me where they are."

Feeling the blood pooling in his mouth, Glenn raised his head once again and stared straight into Merle's blue eyes. Contracting the muscled in his throat, he spat in the older man's face, the mix of heavy blood and faint traces of saliva falling right into the bridge of Merle's once broken nose. The Southern man recoiled, shaking his head several times like a dog as he wiped it away fiercely with the sleeve of his shirt. As he lowered his arm, he sneered at Glenn who almost returned the look. There were a few stains of blood left across the older man's face.

"Fine," Merle chuckled as he jumped down from the table and walked over to the door. "Yah just wait here, boy. I'll be back with something to change yah mind soon."

Glenn froze as the door swung closed and the lock clicked into place once again. His heart started pounding in his chest. Had Emrys told them about the prison? Did they somehow know about Reece? What about Daryl? Merle would never do something that cruel to his brother, would he?

* * *

Daryl gritted his teeth and narrowed his gaze as Logan cleaned and bandaged the woman's arm. The woman glared back at him, meeting his eyes with no fear or discomfort. A faint glimmer of pain flashed in her dark eyes as her cuts were doused with alcohol, but it was quickly gone, replaced by her cool anger.

"So, are you going to tell us your name?" Rick snapped as he paced back and forth in front of the woman.

The woman turned her gaze to the other man and cocked one eyebrow. She pursed her lips, but didn't reply. Daryl snarled and pushed himself off from his position leaning against the wall. He stomped around the woman, circling her like an angry wolf.

"Well?" he growled, his blue eyes wide and hard.

The woman glanced down at her arm as Logan encased the healing gashes on her shoulder and arm. When he was done, the former surgeon patted her hand and stood, carrying away a bowl full of bloody water. The woman's eyes flicked over to where her sword was clasped in Ari's large hands before she looked back at Rick.

"We helped you with your wounds. We even gave you water and food. The least you could do is tell us your name," Rick continued.

With a soft sigh, the woman rolled her eyes and stood. Daryl tensed and raised his crossbow a little as she did, his eyes never leaving her. His instincts were in full drive, alert and sensitive to any attempts at violence from the mysterious woman.

She'd shown up with some nasty wounds, driving Rick's SUV, but with Glenn and Emrys nowhere in sight. Carl and Dale, who had been standing guard near the gate, had let her into the first yard of the prison and she'd pulled the car to a stop, parking it just before the gate that led into the second yard. The woman had hopped out of the car just as Daryl, Lance, and Rick had approached, but before they could ask her anything, she'd succumbed to her injuries and fainted from blood loss. It had taken several hours and some quick work on Logan's part to save the woman, laying her out on the table in the rec room so he could get a better look at her injuries. She had several large gashes on her shoulder and right arm as well as one further down on her thigh. The cut on her thigh had been the most problematic and Logan had been forced to stitch it closed. Now, the woman was awake and they wanted answers.

"Those people, the ones that I assume you want to know about," the woman finally said, "I know who took them."

Daryl's interest was perked and, if Tasha hadn't grabbed his arm, he would have stormed over to the woman, grabbed her, and shook her until she told him what had happened. He was prepared to do anything to find out where Glenn was.

Slowly, the woman stood and she stared up at Rick. Her hands were clenched at her side and the white bandage on her right arm stood out in stark contract to her dark skin.

"Miles from here there is a town called Woodbury. It's run by a man who calls himself the Governor. That's where your friends are," she said, her gritted teeth nearly grinding against each other as she spoke.

"Why there?" Rick asked.

"There's something wrong with that town. The Governor, he's a right bastard. He's got armed guards on the walls and its isolated, but I think we can break into it," the woman replied.

"We?" Daryl snarled.

"You want to save your friends, right?" the woman asked, turning to Daryl. "I know the layout of the town. You won't make it in or our alive without me."

Rick and Daryl exchanged a look. Daryl nodded once fiercely, slinging his crossbow against his shoulder. As Rick turned back to the woman to finalize their plans, Daryl silently walked out of the rec room. Strolling down the hall towards the cell he shared with Glenn, he quietly unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Sitting down on the edge of the cot that lay on the floor, he slid his feet up onto the cot and rolled onto his side, facing inward. He reached out and softly pulled his sleeping daughter towards him, cuddling the tiny infant against his chest. Reece squirmed in her sleep, but didn't wake up, snuggling against Daryl's muscled chest. The Southern man began running his fingers through Reece's thick, dark hair, staring at the stone wall.

His resolve was strong and clear. He was going to get Glenn back.

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**Like it? Love it? REVIEW!**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Well, I am back from Spain and ready to get writing again. It was beautiful and I want to go back again, but this story needs a little work first, eh? We have our next installment of the epic love story between our favorite crossbow-lovin' redneck and the sweet, but badass "I am Korean" pizza boy... if he's really considered a boy anymore since Steven Yeun is actually 30 years old... but I digress. Enjoy! REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 21

Glenn's whole body ached. The pain had largely died from the flaming, throbbing agony that it had been earlier, but it was by no means gone. It had settled deep into his muscles as they began to turn black and blue, blood rising to the surface to form bruises and leak out of cuts that adorned his face. His lip was split open and occasional heavy drops would fall from his chin into his lap. There was a large gash over one eye where Merle had punched him especially hard. The Southern man's knuckles had dug into the skin and tore it right open. The blood had slowed, but he still had to blink red liquid out of his eyes every now and then. His left cheek throbbed lightly from the repeated blunt force that had been thrust into it and he could already tell that he was sporting a black eye. His body was slumped forward, finding a difficult time managing to keep itself upright from the pain. Underneath his shirt, his chest still ached.

He didn't know how long he'd been tied up in that concrete room. While he thought that he'd had some idea of time, he now knew that he was completely and utterly lost. Merle had come and gone several times, each time hitting harder and asking his questions louder. Glenn could tell that the other man was having the time of his life. Every time he landed a hit, the older man grinned like a kid on Christmas Day, his yellow smile flashing under those smirking lips.

Merle may have been a bastard before, but Glenn certainly hated him now. Once side of him tried to argue that the other man was Daryl's brother and that he shouldn't hate him. For a few moments, he had agreed, but then he had remembered the shared component that tied himself and Daryl together forever: their daughter. His anger roared inside of him and he grimaced as a feral growl tore from his throat. If they hadn't left Merle on that rooftop in Atlanta, he would know about Glenn and Daryl's relationship. That would have caused problems, the older brother being the homophobic, racist ass that he was. Glenn did not want to expose his daughter to that. Reece deserved a better family than that and she had it in the rest of the Atlanta survivors. Blood relation did not equal unconditional love.

Suddenly, Glenn heard a familiar sound. His whole body froze as moaning filled the room, drifting in through the crack under the metal door. He stared with dread as the knob slowly turned and the door opened. Merle cackled as he stepped inside, a walker clawing its way ahead of him. It was male, its eyes the signature white of the walking dead and the stench of rotting flesh tore through Glenn's senses. The walker growled and moaned as it reached out for Glenn, the white eyes focusing on him.

"Hey China! Yah didn't want to talk so I brought this little buddy along wit' me. Thought he might change yah mind," Merle snapped, practically giggling as the walker fought against its restraint, a metal collar on a role, the kind you used to capture violent, feral dogs.

Glenn didn't reply, staring with wide, fearful eyes at the growling walker. He strained against his bound arms, unconsciously leaning away from the threat in the doorway. Even if a single bite didn't kill him, the walker could still tear him apart. His mind flashed to Daryl and Reece. They were waiting for him back at the prison, just as Avi and Idris were waiting for Emrys. He didn't hear whatever Merle growled at him as the older man shoved the walker forward into the room, slamming the door behind it.

A burst of determination rushed through him as the walker stumbled towards him. Gritting his teeth, he growled and started to rock the chair back and forth, glancing around him for any sort of weapon that he could use. He managed to tip the chair back just as the walker lunged at him, the loud crack of breaking wood filling the air. Glenn smiled triumphantly, knowing that he'd managed to break one of the legs of the chair.

Landing harshly on his back, he kicked up at the dead human above him, connecting squarely with the lunging beast's shoulders. The force of his kick propelled the walker back, knocking it completely off balance. It growled as it fell and Glenn scrambled up to his feet, his body bent at a weird angle because of the chair that was still attached to his body. He threw himself backwards, cracking the seat of the old chair against the concrete wall. As the walker regained it's footing, he smashed the chair harder and harder against the wall, gritting his teeth. Finally, there was the triumphant snap and the seat of the chair fell free, collapsing to the floor. All he had to do now was get his arms free. He needed to break the back of the chair.

The walker lunged again and Glenn tried to dance away. He wasn't quick enough though, having lost a lot of his dexterity and speed during his pregnancy and subsequent recovery from it. The walker managed to sink its teeth into one of his tethered arms. With a yell, he kicked up at the walker's chest, throwing the dead being away from him. He threw a quick glance down at his arm and breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed that the bite hadn't torn away any of the flesh. It had just bitten him.

Glancing around, he noticed a folded spring rack, the kind that was used for cots. Grabbing it with one of his bound arms, he dragged the rack back towards a corner, trapping himself between the metal springs and the concrete wall. The walker growled and moaned as Glenn braced himself, one foot balancing against the rack.

"Come on!" he shouted as the walker advanced on him.

The walker hissed as it grabbed at the springs with its claw-like hands, pushing Glenn forward with all of its might. Bracing himself, Glenn threw himself back into the wall, this time seeking to break the back of the chair that was attached to him. When the satisfying crack wasn't heard, he pushed back against the rack with his raised leg, just managing to push the walker back to try again. The walker surged forward once again and Glenn threw himself back, using the weight and force of the walker to add to his own. He could just start to feel the wood begin to break as he forced the walker back for a third attempt.

"Bring it on!" he screamed at the walker.

It only moaned at him as it lunged forward once again, throwing him back against the wall harder than before. A few weaker rungs of the back of the chair snapped cleanly in half, freeing the connection that tied Glenn's two arms together. Bracing his back against the wall, Glenn fought to keep the walker away as he tore at the tuck tape. He growled with frustration and quickly slipped off his long sleeved shirt, squeezing his legs through the tight restraints of the duck tape that was wound around the arms of the shirt.

As he came free of his shirt, he tore the fabric at the seams, leaving a sharp, broken piece of wood from the back of the chair in his hands with strips of graying fabric hanging from it. With a roar, he surged forward, throwing the fighting walker back with the rack. Raising the sharp splinter of wood, Glenn dove it forward, through the springs and into the center of the walker's forehead. The wood stuck slightly in the rotting skull and pulled away with a wet, slick sound, but the walker kept coming. In a burst of sudden energy, Glenn screamed and drove the wood into the walker's head again and again, barely even noticing that the walker was dead until it had fallen at his feet with the piece of wood sticking straight out of its forehead.

He slowly limped over to the far wall and slid down to the floor, his weary arms falling into his lap. He panted as his body groaned from the pain of moving. When the walker had been in the room, he'd barely noticed. The adrenaline had been too great. Now though, he was paying the price from so many quick movements. Blood was dripping from the bite on his arm and the gash in his forehead, spotting his vision with black dots.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, his drooping brown eyes staring at the fallen body of the walker. All he knew was that by the time the door opened next, there was a pool of blood in his lap and on the floor around him. Slowly, he raised his head as the metal door swung open and a man he didn't recognize pushed Emrys into the room. The blond Welshman was just as bloody as he was with gashes across his face and drops of dried red blood on his shirt. Emrys glanced over at Glenn and winced as he was released and pushed in the direction of the shorter, darker man. As Emrys took a seat beside him, Merle flounced into the room, smirking at them.

"Aw, look at them. Such an adorable couple," he smirked. "Gay fuckers."

"We're not dating," Emrys groaned.

"Really, cause it sure looks like it with yah two getting' all close like that," Merle growled.

"We aren't dating. He has someone, but it isn't me," Glenn snarled.

"Lies are very-"

Suddenly, something inside Glenn cracked. Every ounce of anger, despair, and fatigue that had drenched his body since the dead had risen up and begun to walk rose up inside him and burst out in one single sentence.

"-I can't be dating him because I'm too busy being fucked by your brother, you asshole!"

He was wrenched off his feet and a metal fist slammed into the side of his face, knocking his vision white and his entire body numb with pain. Emrys shouted for Merle to stop as he punched Glenn again and again, but the smaller man in the Southern man's grasp just smiled and began to laugh.

It was the ultimate revenge. His love for Daryl and Daryl's love for him was the ultimate revenge. There was nothing that would hurt Merle's racist sensibilities more than his baby brother dating a gay Asian man and to be honest, while he hated to admit it, it was the funniest thing he'd thought of in a long while. He nearly told Merle about Reece, but decided that if the prison was found, it was too dangerous to alert Merle to his half-Korean niece. Even in his madness, he loved his baby.

By the time that Merle has dropped him to the cold concrete floor, his sides hurt from laughing and his face was once again a mass of flowing blood.

"Well look at this," Merle sneered as Glenn's laughing began to quiet down. "Seems like someone got bit."

Merle glanced up at Emrys, who was frozen against the wall. He smirked as he stood and said, "I'll let you two queers take care of each other. Have fun!"

Glenn began laughing again.

"I might just get lucky and bite you instead!" he shouted after Merle as the other man slammed the door behind him.

* * *

Silently, Daryl snuck his way through the shadows that lined the metal wall surrounding the town, Rick and Michonne –the woman they had found injured earlier that day- just a few paces ahead of him. Anna, T-Dog, and Lance were behind him with Oscar bringing up the rear. Daryl had his crossbow out and ready as his blue eyes scanned the darkness for any sign of trouble. They hadn't encountered a single walker since they'd left their vehicles less than a quarter of a mile from the town and an eerily strange feeling had crept up inside all of them. However, he pushed his worry away and focused on the task at hand.

Dale and the others had remained at the prison with the three babies, all of whom were hungry and cranky after missing their "mothers" for more than a day. Judith had been whining and sobbing loudly, tears rolling down her red face while Idris whimpered, begging wordlessly for Emrys. Avi had tried to calm his son, but the baby knew that someone was missing. Daryl hadn't been at all surprised when his own daughter had started to fuss. She didn't make a sound as Daryl had held her that afternoon, but her small fingers had begun picking at the front of his shirt.

Glenn needed to come home, to be safe with him and their daughter. In Daryl's mind, there was no other alterative. If they found Emrys and the rest of the group wanted to go back, he was prepared to keep fighting until he found his missing lover. He refused to raise Reece without her Korean father by his side.

His attention turned back to the two people in front of him as they came to a stop, Michonne silently motioning to the wall beside them. Slowly and quietly, she pried apart the two layers of metal and slipped inside, her katana out and at her side. A few tense moments passed before her hand poked out and waved them in. Daryl gritted his teeth and clutched his crossbow as he slid in through the new opening behind Rick, his eyes hardening like chips of ice.

He was prepared to spill the blood of anyone that stood between him and Glenn and he thought about this as they slipped once again into the shadows, following Michonne as she led them into the heart of enemy territory.

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	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Look Slashlover the new chapter is out! Finally! Lots of excitement and drama! Keep reading and thank you all for your support! REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!**

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Chapter 22

The firefight broke out in the middle of the main square. After successfully sneaking into the home where Michonne had been held and getting out again, their luck had quickly begun to run out. The katana-wielding woman had vanished without a word and if Daryl hadn't managed to retain a shred of faith in Rick, he would have suspected her of setting them up. They shot their way past what they assumed to be the town guards, hiding behind crates and buildings as they slowly inched through Woodbury.

With his crossbow strapped to his back, Daryl leapt into the shadows of one of the houses, Rick not far away hidden behind a barricade. Oscar had stayed behind to guard their way out, but T-Dog, Lance, and Anna were all hidden somewhere nearby, firing return shots at their attackers. People were shouting all around them and Daryl knew that people, the average, ignorant citizens of his nightmarish town were inside each building they hid behind, cowering in corners and crying. He rolled his eyes at the scene around him, the picturesque gardens and perfect paint. They were living in a fantasy. While he didn't blame them, he also knew that they were solely avoiding reality, unable to cope with it and just like before, they were letting others do the fighting –which was completely unnecessary when it came to the Atlanta Survivors group- for them. Cowards, the lot.

Snarling under his breath, he reloaded his handgun and shot a peak around the edge of the building. A bullet whizzed by, narrowly missing his temple and cracking part of the wood siding of the house. Judging the direction of the bullet, he clicked off the safety and prepared himself. With the quickness only achieved by years of stalking wild animals, he dashed out from behind the house, turning slightly only to fire a few shots over his shoulder. Several bullets flew past, one nearly lodging into the back of his heel as he ducked behind a barricade further down the block.

He glanced up in time to see Rick slide down behind the barricade beside him, sweat beading on his forehead.

"What now?" Daryl asked. "We have no idea where they're being held and we can't go into every single one of these houses lookin' for them! We'll get shot before we can do that."

"I agree. We need a new plan," Rick hissed. "Problem is, there isn't one building here that doesn't look like a possible prison for random survivors, does it?"

"That Michonne really doesn't know anything else?" Daryl muttered as he quickly fired a few shots over the top of the barricade.

"She said if they weren't in that house we already went to, then she has no idea," Rick replied.

"Mother fuck, this is a mess," Daryl snarled. "We need to find them quick. Who knows what that Governor fucker will do now! Especially if he knows we're here lookin' for 'em."

The loud cracking of gunfire filled the air once again and the two men ducked lower behind the barricade as bullets became embedded in the wood around them. A slight movement caught Daryl's eye and he glanced up quickly, spotting an armed man creeping around the edge of a building further up the street. Smirking a little, he holstered the small handgun and raised his preferred crossbow. With a light whistle, the bolt flew straight through the faint darkness. Over the gunfire, Daryl just managed to hear the soft _thunk_ of the arrow cutting straight through the man's head.

"Good shot," Rick said.

"Thanks."

"Don't worry. We'll find them. No matter how long it takes and how many people we have to kill, we will bring Glenn and Emrys back with us."

Daryl silently nodded in agreement and scowled. "Let's get moving."

* * *

_God damn, my head fucking hurts_, Glenn moaned internally as he leaned against the wall. _Fucking Merle! He had to beat the shit out of me and then sick a damn walker on me! Some… what would he be to me? My brother-in-law? Well, he's Reece's uncle at least. Yeah, he's my brother-in-law. Sure, Georgia doesn't recognize same-sex marriage, but fuck the system. I'm locked up in some concrete basement with a twice-dead body, and a migraine and the world already came to an end. _

He glanced over at Emrys who, at some point in the last half hour, had managed to lay down and fall into a light sleep. Glenn hadn't even noticed when the blond laid his head on the younger man's thigh, one hand curled under Glenn's knee and the other clutched tightly to his chest. His sleep was fitful if the heavy lines creased across his forehead were any indication. He twitched every few seconds, his hands flexing, then relaxing before his feet began to shudder in his thin shoes.

His face was a mess. Deep gashes from a knife cut across his cheeks and the blood had stopped weeping not long before, a few stains now adorning Glenn's already dirty jeans. The blond's blue shirt was torn on one shoulder, from where one of the guards had grabbed him as he tried to escape, tearing the fabric cleanly down the seam. Flecks of blood were splattered across the front of his shirt and a few large bruises were forming at the corners of his mouth and along his right temple.

Emrys jerked in his sleep and Glenn laid his arm gently over the Welshman's back, trying to comfort him. The blond snuggled closer into his leg, burying his discolored face into the blood stained fabric. With a silent groan, Glenn began carefully petting his friend's shoulder, following the curve of his spine to the middle of his back before moving upward again.

The two men remained that way for some time, avoiding as much movement as possible and basking in the comfort of each other's company. Glenn kept his eyes glued to the single doorway as Emrys slept, knowing that Merle –or possibly one of the other guards- would eventually come. Whether they would bring another walker with them or not, he did not know, but regardless, their arrival could spell the end for the two young fathers.

Even in his watchful state, his thoughts floated back to his family, to Daryl and Reece. His breath caught and his chest grew heavy as he fought back the tears. Clenching his fist on the back of Emrys's shirt, Glenn tightened his jaw and steeled himself. He tried not to imagine his lover and child without him, what would happen if he should die in this concrete room full of shit and hell. Pushing happier thoughts into the front of his mind, he took a deep breath and smiled a little.

_Daryl holding Reece for the first time. Introducing my daughter of Idris. Watching Dale play with Reece. Rubbing her back as she fell asleep between Daryl and me. Our first time at the CDC-_

The door slammed open, knocking him from his thoughts. Emrys sat up with a soft cry and a grimace, whipping his head around to see five armed guards –none of whom Glenn recognized- enter the room. Before either of them could do anything, two of the guards came over and dragged them to the center of the room, yanking them up onto their knees. Glenn twisted and fought as the strong hands pushed him back onto the floor, but a strong glance from Emrys made him pause.

Heavy footsteps, probably made by a pair of military-grade boots or possibly steel-toed, filled the silence as someone else entered the room. The person stopped just behind them and Glenn didn't even try to turn and see who it was.

"You two have caused a lot of trouble for our people. Now, normally I hate violence- detest it, actually- but you are a threat to my people. I'm sorry, but we can't just let you go," a deep, commanding voice mused.

A shiver ran up Glenn spine. This man, whoever he was, didn't intend for them to live. He was going to kill them, of that Glenn was sure. The thoughts that he had tried to push away before came racing back to the front of his mind. He didn't want to leave Daryl and Reece alone. He wanted to see his daughter, his beloved little girl, grow up, even if the world had gone to hell. He wanted to be there when she walked, talked, hit adulthood, and every other day until he died, whether it was from a pack of walkers, a gunshot or some other cause.

Now, the chances of that happening seemed to be disappearing faster and faster.

He was so distracted that he didn't even hear the deep voice talking to the guards or the sound of his heavy footsteps leaving the room. His mind was raging as he wrestled with his emotions for control, his breath growing faster and louder as he began to panic.

"Glenn?" Emrys whispered beside him.

"Shut up," one of the guards snapped.

Emrys gulped and repeated, "Glenn?"

"I said shut up, blondie," the guard snarled.

Emrys's voice grew as he ignored the guard and continued to talk. Even as the other guards started to shout at him, he kept talking, his voice rising into a shout.

"We're going to be fine, Glenn! Everything will be alright! They won't kill us! I promise! Don't think about them! Don't even think about _it_! Gl-"

There was a loud crack and smoke filled the room. In a panic, Glenn threw himself onto the ground just as gunfire rung out. The sound of bullets sinking into flesh filled his ears as he tucked his head between his knees, his hands still tied tightly behind his back. Suddenly, a hand shot out from the smoke and dragged him back. He shrieked and kicked out at his supposed attacker, but when the strong arms closed around his chest and pulled him against a strong, firm form, he stilled.

His mind snapped back into focus as he was pushed up the metal staircase, limping up as quickly as he could behind Emrys. He fixed on his gaze on the familiar, bloody blond hair as they raced through the cement building. Only when the cool night of spring greeted them and they were huddled in the shadow of a nearby building did he let out the breath he was holding.

"Good job on those smoke bombs, Anna," Rick murmured from where he and Daryl were hunched at the corner of the building, guns drawn and returning fire from the town center.

"Thank me later," the gruff woman snarled as she turned Emrys's head, examining his injuries. "We need to get them out of here. Glenn can barely walk and Emrys has lost a lot of blood."

"What about that lady we came in with?" T-Dog asked. "What do we do about her?"

"Forget her," Daryl snapped. "She abandoned us here. Probably set us up, the bit-"

"Not now, Daryl. We need to focus on the fight," Rick said sharply, cutting him off.

Daryl bared his teeth at the former deputy, but didn't say anything else, leveling his second handgun at a nearby enemy. Steadying his shot, he fired and smirked when the bullet hit dead center. The armed man fell forward, dead, landing on the grassy knoll in the center of the plaza.

Glenn groaned softly as Lance helped him up and threw the Korean's arm over his shoulders. When Emrys was also on his feet, they took off through the shadows, Rick and T-Dog taking the lead while Daryl brought up the rear. They raced from building to building, stopping to give Glenn and Emrys a chance to rest as well as checking for any coming enemies.

Just as they reached the break in the fence, a familiar form came bursting out of the darkness. Michonne was coming at them at full speed, her katana strapped to her side and gunfire following as she ducked around barricades and various other defenses. She made eye contact with Rick and silently growled at him, raising her hand to motion him onward.

"Everyone through!" Rick commanded, turning his back to the exit to fire at the guards chasing Michonne.

Daryl glanced at Glenn, who returned his stare. Motioning to the break in the fence, Daryl stepped up to stand beside Rick, putting away his handgun to pull out his crossbow. Lifting it, he took aim and silently released a deadly arrow while the others scrambled out through the break in the fence. Michonne had just joined them when a shot rang out behind them. Daryl turned in time to see Oscar fall and Glenn grab his abandoned gun.

Raising the rifle, Glenn backed up towards the waiting SUV, with Emrys and Anna already seated in either the back seat or the trunk. Lance was in the driver's seat, revving up the car. One of the town guards had left the safety of the city fence and was firing at them. Glenn knew that he had only a few chances to take the guard out. He had never been very skilled with a gun, but this was not the time to worry about his abilities with a rifle. Quickly, he took aim and fired, hoping that the bullet at least hit the man.

He didn't even wait to see how his shot landed, scrambling into the back of the SUV with Emrys as Rick jumped into the passenger's seat. Daryl was the last one in the car, shooting a quick arrow into a now-dead Oscar's forehead. Before Daryl even had a chance to close the door, Lance took off, the SUV speeding into the forest and away from the small, barricaded town, gunfire following them all the while.

When they were several miles from Woodbury, Daryl finally glanced over his shoulder at Glenn. The smaller, dark-haired man was clutching Emrys, the blond returning the gesture. Both had their eyes closed and their breaths were slightly labored. Burning anger coursed through the gruff Southern man when he took note of the bruises and blood splashed across his lover's face. Then there was the bite on his arm, which was now hidden from view underneath a thin layer of gauze and bandages. Someone was going to pay for what they had done, starting with the damn Governor. Of that, Daryl was completely sure.

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